<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>how to never stop being sad by far2late</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347851">how to never stop being sad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late'>far2late</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ilomilo [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Decisions, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Character Study, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Coping, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead People, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Feels, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Ghost Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loneliness, Lonely Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), POV Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Panic Attacks, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson Adopts Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), References to Depression, Sad, Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, Separation Anxiety, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt, Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Tragedy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, Wakes &amp; Funerals, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:33:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"His vision blurred and Puffy carefully pried the notebook out of his hands, setting it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. Ranboo pulled his legs up onto the sofa, moving to lie down and face the fire, staring unblinkingly into the flickering oranges and yellow. </p><p>“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Puffy said softly, Ranbooo not responding. She pulled a blanket over him and it did nothing for the cold chill that spread in his bones. He shook under the covers as Puffy took a seat at the table, soft footsteps coming down from the stairs and a kiss was pressed to his temple. He barely registered Niki’s voice, nor Puffy’s, nor the ring of a comm. </p><p>All that registered was that Techno and Phil wouldn’t be there when he awoke, and the words that he knew would do nothing but haunt him." </p><p>or </p><p>ranboo learns to deal with the grief of losing techno and phil.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cara | CaptainPuffy &amp; Ranboo, Niki | Nihachu &amp; Ranboo, Ranboo &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ilomilo [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read, Crimsons_favourites, Heavy angst for Sad Nights™</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>twt is @far2early, please read thru the tags for any triggers that might make u uncomfortable reading this fic. its very heavy and shouldnt be read if ur sensitive to topics like death, depression, grieving, throwing up, etc.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b>repeat to yourself that they’re not gone. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>time has proven that fooling yourself into believing a lie is the most effective way to deal with things you have no control over.</b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day that Ranboo had found out that his world had ended, it was a normal Tuesday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun had been shining down on the tundra that he inhabited, leaving the snow glistening under the rays of the sun and dew drops growing on the few plants that had sprouted up around the area, lit up by dozens of bright torches. The cottage that had been occupied by Techno and Phil was silent, compared to its usual bustle in the mornings that made up for Techno’s lack of productivity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been at least a year since Ranboo had been taken in by the two war criminals, finding himself a home among the blizzards and mountains that he had been taken to. Phil had brought him to the area after L’manberg had been blown up and left for dead, otherwise dubbed the Doomsday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s first couple of weeks living nearby them had been tense and anxious, losing sight of himself and everything that had been going on. He had been veering on the edge of mental breakdowns for at least three months, leaving him more than exhausted. Dream’s voice haunted him everywhere he went and he had a sneaking suspicion that something was incredibly wrong with his memory, or lack thereof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Dream had been locked up, however, things seemed to have turned for the better around the SMP. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil had taken to flying once more, surprising Ranboo the first time he had seen the man’s wings whip out and flick hard enough to send him into the sky like a rocket. He faintly remembered Techno laughing at his reaction from the porch, the teen fixing the doghouse at the time. Creepers were a curse on their lands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno had gotten more relaxed as well, slowly opening himself up to the possibility of trusting someone else and discarding the favour that the tyrant had him promise to give. It was easy enough to ignore the life debt when Dream was in prison for life, no clear escape in the near future as he remembered that the prison was inescapable. It had taken mountains of stress off the hybrid’s shoulders, leaving him looking younger than he had in ages. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, Ranboo forgot that Techno was just 21 and Phil barely a couple of years older. It was easy to see them as untouchable people, people who had seemed godly in nature. The denial that came with acknowledging the fact that they could both die was something that Ranboo had to come to terms with, in a way he hadn’t even realized. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was in the moments where Phil and he would go to collect scutes from turtles, the animals snapping at his hands every now and then and Phil wincing as he pulled back, bleeding slightly. It was in the way that Techno had bandaged up his scarred hands when he had spilt boiling water on them while making himself tea in the kettle, cursing under his breath as Ranboo snickered at the table. It was in the way that Phil had nodded off when they went to see the Aurora Borealis, Techno chuckling fondly as he patted Ranboo’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were a lot of quiet moments that Ranboo had come to ingrain into his memory, probably the best it had ever been in his life. Nothing to stress him out, far away from everything that could go wrong and away from the people who had aimed to ruin him. He hadn’t even humoured the idea of visiting Dream in prison, only focusing on fixing up the doghouse, turning it into a half-year project. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had been reluctant to make himself a better shack than the one he had. It was a bit childish, but he felt as though he would lose his excuse for coming over to Techno and Phil’s cottage should he make himself a nice place that had insulated walls. It would ruin his excuse of needing somewhere warm to be when a blizzard hit, despite his and the duo’s mutual knowledge that he could visit anytime. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doghouse was fun to build, Ranboo spending most of his time fixing it and feeding the dogs in the process, getting attached to them as well. Techno had found it endearing, he thought at one point, reading through the man’s attempt at a cold demeanour pretty easily. Techno had little chance of scaring him off with expressions anymore, so it was easy to tell that he wasn’t nonchalant about the little comments he made when he thought Ranboo was too distracted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen found it funny. Phil did, too. It was ironic, seeing someone who had been so scary previously become softer after a couple of months without violence. The trio had truly embraced the idea of a retirement arc, leaving themselves out of the drama that would go on in L’manberg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>For the past few weeks, however, Techno had been going out more than usual, coming back a bit dazed and distracted afterwards. Phil never questioned him about it, but it was clear that the man was worried about his friend with how he had made sure to be careful with him and made sure to check he wouldn’t be sick at night when he had dozed off. Ranboo had shared the same concerns at first, but with how the man seemed fine the next day, he assumed he was just tired after going Trident hunting, or mansion-hopping. The pair of them seemed fine, at the best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He assumed that was why he hadn’t seen what had happened to the pair of them coming, not at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had stepped out of his shack, armourless as he made his way over to the fully built, polished doghouse, a sack of rotten flesh in his arms as he carried it over to the group of softly barking mutts that sat in the warm home. He ducked as he entered, humming to himself as he awaited Techno’s greeting of good morning and the smell of pancakes to float through the windows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you again, Dogboo’s,” Ranboo mumbled to himself, smiling at the joke that he made. It was impossible to name them all, so he had settled for one until all of them would respond to the name. Techno had been furious about it, Ranboo didn’t think his stomach could hurt from laughing before then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few of them barked at his arrival, the others slowly stirring from their slumber and sitting up on their hind legs, others raising their head from where they had been laying down. The group of them became much more interested as he opened the bag of rotten flesh, the smell wafting through the air and leaving them interested in the hybrid once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo threw out a couple of pieces to the back, watching the impatient few dogs run to grab at it and then sat down cross-legged, laughing slightly as the others crowded him and proceeded to pass out a piece or two at a time. The huskies moved over and returned to where they had been laying down before, gnawing on the meat that had been sitting in Ranboo’s basement for the past couple of days. It was something close to luck that his basement was practically a fridge in the one corner he didn’t keep heated, the tundra helping to make him a natural appliance out of a hole in the dirt he furbished with stone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo finished up feeding them about half an hour later, growing a bit confused at the lack of Techno and Phil. He shrugged it off, leaving the doghouse and closing it, listening to the huskies happy barks through the door. He shook off his worries, making his way to the cottage that was right next door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He stepped up to the porch, knocking on the door before twisting the doorknob out of habit, finding it to be unlocked where it would usually be rigid and stuck. Ranboo frowned, peering into the home and finding the lights off and fireplace unlit, leaving him unsettled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Techno? Phil? Are either of you here?” He called, stepping in and shutting the door behind him, the sound of wind whistling cutting off abruptly and leaving him feeling as though he had been snapped into a reality he didn’t like all that much. He slipped off his boots out of habit, leaving them in a slightly darker spot in the wooden floors that would usually hold Techno and Phil’s set of netherite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped through the living room, seeing things displaced and potion materials spread around the floor and ledges. Ranboo’s eyebrows furrowed, a frown tilting his lips down as he shrugged his black cloak off, hanging it by a hood on a chair in the dining room. Ranboo crept into the other rooms, going up the stairs as he noticed the mess that was left of the hallways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were scuff marks on the wood, a few of the curtains ripped and bottles scattered on the ground, little hints of weakness seeping into the wood and giving off a smell of bitter, rotten berries. Ranboo crinkled his nose, sidestepping them and making his way to Techno’s room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place was pretty much trashed, bedsheets ripped and the dresser knocked over, blocking the door from opening it completely. His eyes widened, mouth dropping open slightly before stumbling back, moving fast as he turned to Phil’s door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell?” He mumbled under his breath, peering into Phil’s room to find it in a similar state. Upon closer examination, he noticed that the sets of netherite were gone, though the tools that they usually had on them were gone from where they would usually be with them or in their Enderchests. The pickaxe sitting on the ground seemed more intimidating than ever, glinting in the hazy morning light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo stumbled back, making his way back down the stairs as he cursed under his breath, grabbing his cloak and pulling it over his shoulders and slipping his shoes back on as he made his way back to his shack, ignoring the barking from next to him and  murmurs from the Endermen locals around him. The teen skidded to a halt and went downstairs into his basement, throwing on his armour as fast as he could, hands shaking slightly as he pulled the straps on, making sure they were on tightly in a way that was reminiscent of the speed and efficiency needed when fighting in Sky Wars lobbies way back in the Hypixel lands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s fine,” Ranboo lied to himself uselessly, cleaning off his sword with a quick wipe of cloth before sheathing it, hands shaking ever-so-slightly before he got up from the basement. His footsteps were quick and urgent as he made his way up to the tundra once more, cold stinging his eyes in a way that didn’t bother him until he realized his tears were hurting him, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be fine, I’m just overreacting. They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine,” He repeated, making his way to the Nether portal that connected them back to the rest of the server. Ranboo stepped through, ignoring nausea that came from the feeling of teleporting between dimensions before he made his way through the Nether. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His footsteps were hard and fast against the netherrack, ignoring the heat and sweat that pooled under his armour, ignoring the Ghast’s and Piglins that reminded him of Techno in a way that made dark anticipation curl in his stomach harshly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few quiet, tense minutes, he finally caught sight of the Nether hub, scrambling to grab an Ender pearl and throw it to the portal to get there as fast as possible. Ranboo had no idea when they had- </span>
  <em>
    <span>(been taken)</span>
  </em>
  <span>- gone out, so he had to make up for the lost time that was spent sleeping and feeding the huskies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen stepped out of the portal, stepping over red vines that had yet to be cleaned up, running past the Community House that had been rebuilt by Puffy ages ago, looking around the lands for anyone that would look even remotely helpful. The lands seemed abandoned, the wind blowing through the trees that dotted the area every now and then, getting frustrated as he walked up the path to Tommy’s house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He considered calling out for people before a traitorous part of his brain reminded him that he didn’t know the circumstances of Techno and Phil’s disappearance and that he needed to be sneaky. It sounded a bit like something Techno would say, so Ranboo took it at face value and stayed quiet, slinking between buildings rather than taking the main way through the path. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo frowned as he found Tommy’s home empty, making his way around until he reached just past Tommy’s furnished hotel, ignoring Sam who was sitting by the front, looking to be asleep against a wall. Ranboo paused slightly as he heard something that sounded akin to the sounds of a scream far, far off. He had to strain his ears to hear it, but it was just loud enough that he could catch a glimpse of sound that informed him of where everyone seemed to have disappeared to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen walked faster, trying to stay stealthy before breaking out into a run, ignoring his instincts as his sword bounced against the side of his netherite leg guard. It made a loud sound that barely left any room for hiding or being anything close to inconspicuous for him. Any care was left behind as the dread grew greater in his chest and he had to force himself to forgo avoiding the red vines that seemed so menacing to speed up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he ran, he could catch sight of a few people walking along the streets near the back in his peripheral vision, making his heart drop in the process. What the hell happened to Techno and Phil if everyone was just gone off and doing their own thing? He even spotted Niki and Puffy, the two looking unconcerned with anything around them before he heard a yell as he ran past, ignoring the pair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Ranboo grew closer to Skeppy’s mansion and where the scream had come from, he could make out that nothing close to good had happened there. A stench of death and bad and disgust was slowly filling him, the teen fling an Ender pearl at the mansion where he could make out spots of people and what looked like more bloodlines dotting the ground of grass in front of the mansion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing that he could make out was the laughing-shriek of Techno that he hadn’t heard in such a feral way since Doomsday. It made the teen’s skin crawl with a gross feeling he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, especially with how the scene in front of him already wanted to make him throw up once the vertigo of teleportation wore off of him seconds later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened as he saw Techno kneeled on the ground, back to him as the man laughed, his shoulders heaving with what looked like sobs as he was hunched over something out of view. Ranboo hesitated in his approach, making his way closer hesitantly before he paused, sword slowly being pulled out of its sheath to use as a weapon in case something had gone terribly wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The laugh broke off into a sob, a gasping one that sounded too pained for Ranboo to ignore, the teen bursting out with a question before he could stop himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“T- Techno?” He stuttered, cursing himself for the lapse in his speech as the man turned to face him with a jolt that seemed inhuman. Ranboo froze where he stood, stumbling back with something akin to fear on his features as he took in just how Techno looked in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face was splattered with blood, mask half-broken on his face as it was nearly drenched in scarlet. Techno’s eyes were a blood red that didn’t compare to the soft maroon they were the day before, and his hair was matted and clumped together by grime and red-looking slime that was too thick to be blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo,” He breathed, stumbling to his feet before he paused, leaning on the sword that he stuck into the ground in an attempt to ground himself, it looked like. Ranboo stumbled back, ignoring the lump that Techno had been kneeled over as the man took deep, shaking breaths, flinching as he let out a raw visceral scream, tears flying down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Techno, what- Are you okay, what happened, I- I don’t-” Ranboo stuttered, putting his sword away as his heart clenched upon seeing the man’s tears. Techno looked up to him with deep red eyes, nothing like the unnatural shade he had a moment ago. There was something close to agony swimming in them as the man gasped through another sob-like scream, Ranboo ignoring the sounds of someone else shouting far off behind him. They wouldn’t be another couple of minutes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo, you- I-” Techno stumbled over his words, voice raw as his head jerked and he gnashed his teeth together, snarling as he slammed a fist into his head. Ranboo yelped as he did so out of fright, reaching forward with nimble hands before Techno stopped him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>NO!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The man practically roared, eyes squeezed shut so tight that Ranboo could see his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on his sword at the same time. The teen moved back, growing confused as Techno opened his eyes. A low keening noise escaped his throat as he stared up to the skies with eyes that refused to uncloud, a mix between crimson and neon red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s breath hitched in his throat as the man picked his sword out of the ground, getting up and looking at Ranboo with what looked like guilt. The sword was pointed to his chest and Techno’s voice was low and soft and devastated as he uttered a few more words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Ranboo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a quick movement, Ranboo flinched back, arms raised in front of him in self-defence before hearing a choked-off gasp and a thud of something hitting the ground. His eyes opened up after, looking up to see something that made him lean over to the side and vomit into the grass, bent over in half with an arm wrapped around his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo turned back to the violent scene in front of him, ignoring the splatter of warm something (</span>
  <em>
    <span>blood) </span>
  </em>
  <span>against his face, hands rooting through his bag for a healing potion as he moved to the body in front of him warily. He forced himself to ignore the way the sword through Techno’s chest stuck out at an angle from the left side, slowly turning the man over as tears pooled over his eyes and burned his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Ranboo muttered under his breath, ignoring the panicked shouting near him that seemed closer than before. The teen ignored the way his hands were shaking violently as he tried to uncork the bottle of healing potion he held, growing frustrated as his grip around it tightened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The glass broke under his grip with a loud ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>FUCK!’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the teen that was uncharacteristic of him. Phil would have laughed at him for it if he was back at the cottage where it was safe and there were no swords through people’s chests and no light fading from his closest friend’s- mentor’s- family’s- eyes, Ranboo’s gaze growing blurry as he tried to fix Techno. He had to fix Techno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to- I just-” The teen stumbled over his words as they grew weak and shaky, trying to pour the healing potion into his lips through the shattered remains of the bottle. He ignored the traitorous ding of his comm as it informed him of what he knew wasn’t true, what he knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be true, because that would mean Ranboo and Phil would be alone and Techno wouldn’t be there and Techno never died so it couldn’t be true-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gasp came from behind him, a sharp breath following as Ranboo reached into his bag for another bottle, hands still shaking. He could barely identify it as health through his blurry vision as the teen made an attempt to open it again, ignoring the trembling hand that rested on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R-Ranboo?” Came Niki’s soft, shaking voice. He ignored it, struggling to get a decent grip on the cork, his sweaty (</span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody) </span>
  </em>
  <span>hands making it hard to open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t right now, Niki, I have to- I gotta, I- No, you can’t, I just need to-” He stumbled over his weak words as another pair of hands came to grab at his other arm, the teen ripping it away and baring his teeth at whatever tried to interrupt him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>touch me, I need to help- I gotta help Techno-” Ranboo paused as he became hyperaware of the lump that Techno had been kneeled over coughing weakly, eyes snapping up and narrowing on the figure in front of him. His heart dropped to his stomach and he felt bile fill his mouth once more as he saw familiar green attire, limp wings pulled close to the man’s back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stumbled to his feet, ignoring Niki reaching out for him and Puffy behind him as he looked back to Techno for a moment, unsure before he made his way over shakily, collapsing on legs that he didn’t know were weak and giving out until he put weight on them. Ranboo focused his attention on the figure in front of him, praying that it wouldn’t be who he thought it would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sob almost forced its way out of his throat as he came face-to-face with Phil, blood on his lips as the man coughed weakly, a bubble forming on his bottom lip in a way that made Ranboo want to scream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Phil- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Ranboo’s voice broke at the second time he said the man’s name, ignoring the fuss behind him as he moved to hold the man up to his chest, arms around his middle and cradling his head despite the blood that warmed his hands and made him feel like vomiting again. He looked Phil in the eyes, half-open and graying rapidly as a faint smile grew on the man’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R...anboo?” He asked weakly, almost making Ranboo cry more at the sound of his name. Nothing around him was registering, everything going too fast for him to comprehend what had happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, it’s me, Phil, just wait a minute, I have- I have healing potions, okay? I can- Just-” Ranboo stopped as Phil shook his head weakly, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the man, who spoke slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m… Th-ank you, Ranb...oo. For helpin’ me an’ Tech. I’m- I...m sorry,” The man forced out, coughing once more as he shuddered in Ranboo’s arms, slumping as his eyes slid shut in what felt like slow motion. The teen was dumbfounded as he sat on his knees, feeling blood seep into the spaces between his fingers. Ranboo’s breath hitched in his throat as he ignored the voice of someone in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes were wide and unblinking as he dropped Phil unceremoniously, hands slowly reaching for another healing potion as he refused to acknowledge what had just happened in front of him. His mind was hours behind as he remembered himself back at the cottage, where his hands were cold because of snowballs and stinging weather biting at his fingers, warmed with a mug of hot chocolate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His hands were still warm, blood sticky on his fingers and making them slick as he tried to pry open the healing potion. He ignored the voice in front of him as his grip slipped again and again and again, tears leaving him to see nothing but blurs of red and green and white and black and red and red again that was never-ending. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Techno, I can’t open it and I need to help Phil, Techno, I need to help Phil, I- I need to-” Ranboo’s head snapped up as he took in the blob with pink hair in front of him as it turned to Techno in his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A quiet whisper of, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Ranboo,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” followed his words, hands coming forward to take the healing potion from him as he shook his head, moving his hands back to search for the slow-bleeding wound on Phil in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. He snarled at the hands that tried to pull him away from Phil, searching for a wound and eventually pressing his hands over a cut still trickling blood, hands growing covered in crimson as he struggled not to sob, quiet crying somewhere near him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to- Techno? Techno, please, I- I-” Ranboo’s voice broke, shuddering as he knelt over, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped for breath, lungs seizing of air as he attempted to do anything but cry. There was nothing to cry over, they’d be fine. Techno and Phil would be fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” He begged, voice cracking miserably. “Please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands were flooded in blood, and they pulled him away from Phil (</span>
  <em>
    <span>the corpse</span>
  </em>
  <span>) in front of him, struggling weakly against them as more tears fell from his eyes, making him shake his head again and again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I have to- Please, no no no, please, I- Techno, Phil, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please-” Ranboo was shushed as arms pulled him into a hug, ignoring the netherite and the blood that dripped off of him, chin tucked on top of his head as he shook violently in the person’s arms. Ranboo shook his head as well, a hand coming up to muffle his cries and leaving nothing but blood on his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Phil’s blood, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his mind supplied viciously. Ranboo paused, pulling a shaking hand away from his face to examine. The usually white skin was completely drenched in crimson, warm and sticky and leaving little strands connecting it as he spread his fingers apart slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence, where everything went dead still and all he could hear was ringing in his ears before he felt his throat grow sore and his mouth ache and his chest empty of air before realizing he was screaming and screaming and screaming until the edges of his vision went black and he passed out, hands warm with blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>keep listening to the mixtapes they gave you, overanalyze every single word you hear. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“was this a sign that things were going wrong?” no no, you were the one who cared too hard. not them. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo shifted where he lay, blanket on top of him shifting as he did so as his hands curled into it automatically. He screwed up his eyes against the dim light in the cabin, expecting to hear Techno and Phil chatting quietly by the dining table with a couple of mugs of coffee sipped at every now and then. The sound of a fireplace crackling was apparent to his right, warming him through the cold that engulfed his bones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen eventually moved to sit up, yawning slightly as he rubbed at his crusted eyes with a cold hand, warmth seeping into the spaces in between his fingers. It was a familiar feeling that made Ranboo frown slightly, leaving him feeling gross with something curling in the pit of his stomach. A closer examination of his hand when he pulled it back from his eyes and when his vision cleared past the shape of blobs and colours left him to find nothing but his hand, same as it always was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He looked up, ready to swing his legs over the side of the bed before freezing, taking in his surroundings with flickering eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno and Phil’s cabin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The murmuring he heard earlier that he had assumed was Techno and Phil was easy to translate back into what it really was, two soft concerned voices that had been clearly feminine. Ranboo nearly smacked himself in the forehead, looking around with confusion as he tried to remember what had brought him to this place. He didn’t remember anything that would clearly get him here, a chunk of the day before disappearing after he had gone to feed the huskies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo swung his legs over the side of the bed anyway, looking down to find himself in a pair of sweats and a clean white t-shirt. He frowned at the attire, missing his hoodie and the cloak he had remembered wearing when he had last left. Either that or the one he had been wearing most often around the tundra nowadays. It was beginning to get warmer, with spring rolling around and leaving more space for crops, so it was only natural that he tried to adjust for the warmer weather as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As his feet touched the ground, making more noise than he expected, the murmuring came to an abrupt stop, the teen’s ear flicking in that direction as he rubbed at his face again, mind screaming at him to remember something uselessly. Ranboo hadn’t carried his notebook in ages now, barely finding a reason to when he had Phil and Techno and barely any stress to make him forget things in the first place. It made him question what had happened the other day that had made him forget such a large part of his day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo?” A voice called out hesitantly. His head turned to face Niki, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen. He tipped his head a bit, a small smile growing on his face as he waved at the girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Niki,” Ranboo greeted pleasantly, taking a closer look at her. She looked sad, in a way, with red eyes and puffy eye bags that suggested something had happened. Ranboo’s smile melted to a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her. “Is something wrong? Why’ve you been crying?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niki looked more upset at his words, shaking her head as she stumbled back into the kitchen with a hand covering her mouth. Ranboo slumped over slightly at the answering action, ears tilting down automatically. He fidgeted with his hands for a moment, avoiding what seemed to be a private conversation in the room over as he looked around the living room he was lying in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a nice, quaint home. The walls were white and the lights were turned off, the only source of light being the windows and the fireplace that was lit in the center of the room. Ranboo appreciated the decor, everything was made of dark or spruce oak. It was definitely a different style from the one that Phil and Techno would build with, but he enjoyed the differences nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes caught sight of something in a pile near the front door, a bit of a smile growing on his face as he stood to go get it, not noticing his knees shake as he did so. Ranboo ignored the two behind him, making his way over to grab his cloak. It was in a heap by the door, on the ground and leaving a stain of what he assumed was water. Snow melting was always a problem when he came home to dry his clothes in the tundra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo froze as he picked it up, holding it up and finding it reeking with the stench of blood. His hands shook slightly as he brought it closer to his face, dark bloodstains dried on the front in a splatter and some staining the bottom as though it had been dipped into a puddle. A small part of his mind shouted and shouted until he felt flashes of memories forcing their way through his head, coming in milliseconds and assaulting all his senses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The feeling of something warm and sticky in his hands- Pine and cinnamon aroma- A cut-off scream- A quiet plea of apologies to never be accepted- Crimson and night black and green and pink and- burning against his cheeks and his lungs- </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was snapped out of his episode by a hand on his shoulder, taking a sudden, shuddering breath as Ranboo whipped around, being greeted with Puffy, who seemed upset as Niki was. The other girl was nowhere to be seen, however, and his eyes were impossibly wide as he stared at her. Something in his mind was begging for him to connect the vague pieces he had but there was a large part of him telling him he would be better off forgetting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Puffy,” His voice made the decision for him, shaking as it did so. “What- What happened yesterday? I… I don’t…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hands came over his shaking ones, carefully prying the bloodied cloak out of his claws and dropping it in a heap by the front door. Ranboo felt a bit sick, knowing what the stain on the floor was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it okay if we sit down?” Puffy asked him, Ranboo nodding automatically as dread curled in his stomach in an ugly way, making him feel nauseous about the conversation that the woman seemed to be aiming for. She led him back to the couch, Ranboo taking a seat where he had woken up while she took a seat next to him, turning to face him. The teen’s hands tightened into the blanket that pooled around his waist, nervous energy building up in him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How much of yesterday do you remember?” She asked gently, tone leaving him more anxious than calm. Ranboo shrugged, picking at the blanket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like- None. I remember waking up and feeding the huskies and then it’s just… I wake up here.” With the frown that decorated her lips, Ranboo inferred that it was the answer she wasn’t looking for. He ducked his head slightly, ear flicking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” He apologized. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be sorry,” Puffy replied almost immediately, though her mind seemed far away. “I just need to figure out where…” She sighed, eyes closed as she exhaled before looking back to Ranboo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How much do you know about the egg?” She asked. Ranboo recalled what he had written down from about a year ago, wringing his hands together as his gaze flicked away from Puffy’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh- I remember that Bad and Ant were really into it. And that it was spreading and dangerous, but I never really went back to, like. Here. After I got everything set up, anyway. Y’know,” He answered, Puffy nodding along as he made his piece. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been doing our best to clean it up and rehabilitate. Bad’s gotten better, so has Ant and Ponk and everyone else we believe was involved with it. The only problem was the egg itself, and how it just seemed basically… unbreakable, you see. I’m sure you could see the bloodvines around the area and how they’re still covering the SMP.” At Ranboo’s hesitant gesture of no, she ahhed and continued anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, basically, while the others got better, there was little way to keep someone safe from the egg if they didn’t know about it beforehand and not to go to the Spider spawner area. We made a pact as a group to avoid it, but… we never really got around to telling some people. T- Techno included.” Ranboo frowned, head tipping slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does Techno have to do with the egg?” Puffy sighed once more, reaching out a hand and offering Ranboo a chance to hold it, the teen hesitantly taking it as her thumb rubbed over the top of his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We… The egg is very powerful, Ranboo. That’s the thing. Once it gets into someone’s head and makes them believe things that they would never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>do, under any circumstances, things begin to change and they’ve left with a lot of pain and- and decisions that they’re forced to make that they can’t opt-out of.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen opened his mouth to interrupt before Puffy spoke again, slowly and clearly despite how much it seemed to be killing her to do so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We believe that the egg got to Techno, and once it got to Techno, it- it made him kill Phil. And you found Techno and Phil and then… Techno couldn’t take it, so he- he…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What- what the hell? What are you talking about?” Ranboo interrupted, pulling his hand away from Puffy as she gave him such sad eyes that it almost made him sick. “Is this some prank or something, what the…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Ranboo, I really am,” Puffy said, voice regretful as the teen shook his head, the words not registering in his head as the story poured over his head, again and again, trying to make sense of the words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where have- Can you just- Say that story again? Explain it once more.” His voice was shaky, despite how it tried to be demanding in Ranboo’s head. Puffy nodded slowly, not trying to reach out his hand and make a move too sudden. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The egg infected Techno and messed with his head. We think that he went… Well, for a better word, he went insane and- and killed Phil. Then killed himself when you found him.” Puffy said. Ranboo’s head was still fogged up, eyes unseeing as the words turned over his head once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again.” Puffy hesitated before she spoke again, her voice not as shaky and sadder than it had been before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The egg infected Techno, made him kill Phil, and then he- he killed himself.” Ranboo shook his head, rubbing his face with his hand as he stared at the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo-” He interrupted her once more, voice shaky as he spoke up past her protests and made an effort to ignore the emotion leaking into his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Ranboo hissed, eyes closing as a picture of the scene from the day before painted against his eyelids in flashes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Techno got infected by the egg-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The neon red in his eyes and the way that Techno would come back home confused and lost before going back to normal. The way his hands would be bloodstained and he would make an effort not to flinch at the blood that would stain a few of the places that Techno’s hands would rub off on- </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It made him kill Phil-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno leaned over the lump of the body he had murdered, tears and laughs and sobs shaking his body in a violent way that made him gasp and shudder for breath that he could never catch. The rigid feeling of pain that came with recognizing limp wings and a bucket hat striped green and white and stained with blood- </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then you came along, and Techno couldn’t take it so he ended up killing himself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The bubbling gasp of a pained shout, a sword being skewered through the front end of someone’s shirt and making his lungs cinch in the same way that Techno’s were stabbed out of him. The feeling of his heart being torn in two as he saw the light drain from Techno’s eyes in front of him. The smell of healing potion staining his hands and marinating in his nose in a way that made him want to-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo got up from where he was sitting, stumbling outside as he slammed open the door and exposed himself to the bright sunny day that had graced the SMP, throwing up in the grass as he fell to his knees. There was barely anything left to throw up but his stomach twisted uncomfortably and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of the inherent wrongness that came with everything he had just heard and the pain that came from the memories that wouldn’t leave his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was left choking on air and retching as a hand rubbed his back, tears mixing into it as bile surrounded his mouth and dripping down his chin in a way that he couldn’t be bothered to care about. Ranboo could just barely make note of Puffy murmuring quiet words of comfort to him, leaned over himself and staring into a blurry pile of mess and green blobs as he shook violently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to go to sleep,” Ranboo interrupted Puffy, voice blank as the woman stopped speaking, interrupted by the teen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” She said, a hand circling around his wrist as the other wiped at his mouth carelessly, not bothering to be clean about it. There was nothing much to care about, not when all he could see in his head was Techno and Phil dying and their last words flickering in and out of his head. Ranboo stumbled to his feet, Puffy’s arm encircling his waist as he leaned heavily on her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need… I need a pen and paper. Please,” He said weakly, Puffy quickly agreeing. Ranboo’s hands shook as she led him into the home and sat him on the couch once more, hands twisting into the blanket in an attempt to stop them from trembling violently. He repeated the same words again and again in his head as he stared blankly at the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Puffy handed him a notebook a moment later, pen pressing into his hands. He didn’t register her coming around, nor did he make any note of the fact that she was sitting by his side as he flipped it open to a fresh page. His hands shook as he wrote and the handwriting was messy but it was clear enough for him to read and clear enough for him to mourn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he titled the page, blinking hard. Underneath, he wrote out the words that burned clearly in his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ranboo. I’m sorry. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at the words, lips quivering as he pursed them together before flipping to the next page, not wanting to stain the page with the other words. They were meant to be separate, too important to be melded into one being and seen as a memoir. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Phil, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wrote out, mouth opening in a silent sob as he crumpled over his notebook, shoulder shaking as he scribbled out the rest, words slipping from him despite his desperation to remember, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>remember one important thing- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ranboo? Thank you, Ranboo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For helping me and Techno. I’m sorry. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His vision blurred and Puffy carefully pried the notebook out of his hands, setting it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. Ranboo pulled his legs up onto the sofa, moving to lie down and face the fire, staring unblinkingly into the flickering oranges and yellow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Puffy said softly, Ranbooo not responding. She pulled a blanket over him and it did nothing for the cold chill that spread in his bones. He shook under the covers as Puffy took a seat at the table, soft footsteps coming down from the stairs and a kiss was pressed to his temple. He barely registered Niki’s voice, nor Puffy’s, nor the ring of a comm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All that registered was that Techno and Phil wouldn’t be there when he awoke, and the words that he knew would do nothing but haunt him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ranboo. I’m sorry. Thank you, Ranboo. For helping me and Techno. I’m sorry. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>stay up every night staring at your phone, either attempting to gather up the courage to turn these demons, these constant reminders of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The talk of a funeral rolled around impossibly fast, in Ranboo’s eyes.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed like it was just the other day it had been his first night at Puffy’s cottage, sleeping on the couch and crying in his sleep as he tried to make sense of the fact that Techno and Phil were gone. The notebook Puffy had given him that stupid night that he wished he could forget was in his care almost all the time, for the first couple of days he had spent with them. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Forcing himself to get up and do anything was hard, so the teen almost always opted out of it, leaving himself to rot on the couch that had become his new bed. His days were spent staring up at the ceiling and crying silently, leaving near-permanent burn marks on his cheeks that he wished he could brand on himself and re-create the pain again and again. Feeling anything would be better than the numb he had forced onto himself, making him feel like he was taking what happened as something small. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s read enough novels about tragic endings to know how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be enraged, sobbing and screaming and always asking why and swearing revenge, but all he could do was stare numbly at the food that Puffy put in front of him before pushing it away. There should have been a burning rage at the egg for killing Techno, or a fury beyond the grave for Techno and how he killed Phil, but memories he didn’t think were that important interrupted him every time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spent the majority of his day’s reminiscing on Techno and Phil and the spruce cabin and the dog house and woodland mansions and his shack, all coming in flashes of memory that he clung onto with an unbreakable grip. Ranboo ignored Niki’s pleas to make him eat, letting his stomach eat at him from the inside out as though it would bring him any satisfaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, Niki’s nagging was too similar to Phil’s, and Ranboo felt as though he would fall to pieces the moment he went to the dining table and realized that it didn’t have the same indent from where Techno had shoved a knife through a plate trying to cut a tough bit of steak. Ranboo didn’t know what he would do if he tasted the soup that Puffy would leave for him and realize there was no cheese in it, made with help from Bob and a churning session that was spent conversing with Phil about his nether wart farm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were so many parts of Ranboo’s life that he was beginning to realize Phil and Techno had infected, all of them too painful to even bear and deal with, so he left himself with the knowledge that if he didn’t acknowledge them, he wouldn’t have to worry about them. There was a small part of him that made an uproar about how he was being selfish and Phil and Techno would despise him but it was quickly drowned out by his grieving memories of those he had considered family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first time he had heard plans of a funeral, it was overhearing Puffy talking to Sam in the living room, the man coming over when he had heard of the news. Ranboo had been staring up at the ceiling once more, the blanket pulled over him and up to his chest as his arms laid folded over his chest, tears tracking their way down his face and parallel to his temples. They burnt, but they weren’t nearly enough to scar his skin permanently. The burns that had been on his cheeks were nearing that state, with how they had been growing redder and more leathery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t move as he heard the front door open, nor did he move when he realized it wasn’t Puffy or Niki. He didn’t even care if it was Dream at this point, resigning himself to whatever fate he would have if the man would murder him on the couch. All that he would get was a third coffin to join the two yet to be buried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he hadn’t been immediately murdered, his ears flicked minutely. He tuned into the conversation happening in the kitchen almost automatically, eyes shutting in a pale imitation of sleep that wouldn’t work out, not with the eye bags he was slowly growing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-Arrangements, I’m sure you or Tommy might know some people who would want to come. Wouldn’t be right to send them off all alone.” Puffy’s voice came first, Ranboo not registering the words beside Tommy. A sigh came from the other person, his identity flickering to mind once he heard the voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy’s been a bit of a wreck, I dunno what to do. He’s got Tubbo, at the least, but Techno and Phil were… Complicated. I don’t think he’d be willing to speak up about anything concerning them. The most I can say is that I know Ranboo’s been staying with them? He would come for sure.” Sam’s voice was weary, concern seeping into it as Ranboo wished it was Techno’s instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Ranboo’s been here,” Puffy said quietly, “He was there when… you know.” A sharp breath was drawn by Sam, Ranboo turning to face the couch’s back and press his ear into the bottom cushion. He didn’t think he wanted to hear this anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t try to fade into sleep, knowing that his attempts would prove to be fruitless. He just continued listening, despite knowing how the story went. It was printed into his eyelids, flashing over his vision every time he shut his eyes. It haunted him when he slept, leaving him with more nightmares than anything. Ranboo despised himself for wishing that he would forget, knowing that this was the one thing that he never could leave behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-Been lying down on the couch almost every day. Niki and I can’t get him to eat, he won’t leave the house… I don’t know what to do.” Puffy’s voice was faint in his right ear. Ranboo pulled the blanket up higher, curling his legs up to his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe let him get it all out of his system. Try to be a helping hand? I’ve got Tubbo to help with Tommy since it didn’t hit him as hard, but it’s still tough to get him to do much. Tommy and Ranboo could see each other sometime before the funeral if they’re up for it.” Puffy hummed in response to the man’s words, and Ranboo wanted to hate her for it before finding the passion he carried for most things was drying up slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D’you think a couple of days from now would be good? Or is that too soon?” Her voice held a note of anxious worry in it that made tears spring to Ranboo’s eyes once more. He didn’t know what about it made him cry. All he knew was that it was enough to make him want to forget the past week again. He wished he had a time machine that he could use to go in the past and make sure every part of this had never happened, but it was too late and he was stuck hungry and cold and sad on a near stranger’s couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’d be good to put it off for too long,” Came Sam’s reply, voice ever-steady despite the circumstances. He didn’t hear Puffy’s response but he could hear shuffling and a pang of hurt in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was quiet murmuring that he didn’t care enough to listen to, head slowly getting wrapped around the gist of the conversation he had overheard. Ranboo didn’t even notice Puffy getting up and making her way past the living room couch he laid on until he spoke up quietly for the first time in what had been at least half a week (</span>
  <em>
    <span>had it really been half a week since the world had come to a stop? Since his life was ruined since everything went fucking wrong and-</span>
  </em>
  <span>) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funeral?” He croaked out the one word, his face still turned to the couch but the word somehow managed to catch Puffy’s ear, the woman turning back to him with wide eyes as he slowly shifted to turn and face the fireplace again. She had been knelt down in front of the couch where he would be facing, hands resting on the edge lightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re starting to make arrangements,” She confirmed quietly, running a hand over the greasy hair that Ranboo hadn’t bothered to wash in a while now, ignoring the gross texture he was sure it had built up. Ranboo nodded slowly at the words, bringing his hands up to his head to rest it on his arm, eyes half-open. Puffy hesitated before speaking again, voice soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to say something at the funeral? You could always start writing down how you feel now.” Her hand carded through his hair repetitively, doing wonders to calm him down in the process. Ranboo nodded once more, after a beat of hesitation. She nodded along, humming as she continued patting his hair. The teen didn’t push her away and she didn’t seem to have anywhere to go, so Puffy stuck around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You hafta bury them in the tundra,” The words fell out of Ranboo’s mouth unbidden, voice croaky and breaking and disjointed as he spoke but still holding no emotion. “Be’cause they said that. They wanted to remember the Antarctic Empire and the good times it brought. That’s why Techno was out there. He told me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With an air of heartbreak in her eyes, Puffy nodded at the suggestion, making sure to show it would be taken as a footnote. “Do you have your notebook with you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo nodded tiredly. Puffy nodded back at him, continuing her gentle questioning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to start writing something?” Ranboo closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath as he didn’t grace her answer with words, shifting slightly to sit up properly. His legs ached and the hand slipped out of his hair, but his back was propped up by the couch’s arm and his legs were pulled to his chest as he rested his chin on them. He nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around his legs and left them open as his notebook was pushed into them slowly, the teen curling his fingers around the leather cover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did the same for a pen and waited for Puffy to leave before he even considered opening his eyes again, hearing footsteps fade in the distance as hesitance forced her slower than she usually would be. Ranboo knew of how Puffy was on the seas, he’d heard tales of her prowess and the stories she carried as a badge of honour from her time as a pirate. To know that she had been reduced to soft-spoken for his case made him sick to his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as though all Ranboo did was curse people around him, making them suffer in ways he didn’t know would hurt until now. He had cursed Puffy by making her nothing like the pirate she had been before, had cursed Fundy by making him run far away, cursed Tommy by blowing up the Community House and forcing him and Techno apart because of it. He cursed Phil and Techno by- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A low keening broke off his train of thought before he realized the sound had come from him. The teen’s eyesight blurred as he stared at the cover of the leather journal, letting his forehead thump against it and tears run down his face over the same pattern of tear-tracks, skin burning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t bring himself to care when he knew that everything around him was going to be permanent soon, that Techno and Phil would be six feet under and out of reach. Ranboo didn’t get much writing down that day, spending his day crying into the journal’s covers as the pen broke in his grip. He held the journal ever-so-gently in comparison, the pages holding his friends’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>(family’s) </span>
  </em>
  <span>last words. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>or praying just for one second you could feel the warmth of equally returned love</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day of the funeral rolled around faster than Ranboo expected, as though the days were nothing but a blur for him to trudge through before being snapped back into focus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt a bit like being stuck in the background of a photo, the focus off of you as the subject of the media would hold all the emotion, draining it from the rest. All the attention was off of Ranboo and the rest of the world continued moving forward in colour as he felt like everything had desaturated into grays and blacks, fading colours replacing everything he once saw as bright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The days that had been spent between Puffy asking him to write something for Techno and Phil and the date of the funeral itself had been entirely unhelpful when it came to putting his thoughts into words. He knew that the woman had his best interests at heart, but it felt cruel to make an effort to summarize a million thoughts worth of grief into the pages of a journal that was so easy to lose it was criminal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One slight upside was Niki showing up more, coming out of hiding in her room and spending more time with him. Ranboo hadn’t registered it the first time she had come around, but he appreciated the hand that she offered him when he had struggled to poke at his food, lack of appetite clawing at him like a dog at a wooden door. He had ensnared her fingers in his own, lacing them together and embracing the warmth that came with the gentle touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew, logically, that being this upset about Techno and Phil was something to be expected. He had spent a full year with them, learning everything about them and adapting his daily schedule to theirs. Ranboo had learned so much from the pair, enough to rival what he vaguely remembered from his time before he had graced the lands of the SMP. Techno and Phil were people that were worth mourning, it would be a disservice not to take the care to go to their funeral and make sure he paid respects. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But at the same time, it made him sick to think about what the funeral would entail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo would go back to the cottage they stayed at before things went wrong, he would step into snow with boots reserved for exploring with the pair, he would have to sit down in a crowd of people as they stared at two coffins holding their bodies and then be forced to watch them bury them six feet under. The thought of sitting about five feet away from the wood that would hold them for the rest of time was inherently wrong to him, especially knowing that he hadn’t had the chance to write anything for them in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was with a heavy heart that Ranboo moved from his vigil on the couch on the morning of the funeral, escaping into the bathroom with clothes that Niki had prepared a while ago and changing into them before either of them could bring up what it was for. It felt too real, to hear the words fall from someone’s lips. He was fine with it being an idea that lived solely in his head until it was too late for him not to embrace the truth of what had happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo stared at himself in the mirror after he had pulled on his dress shirt, in a suit similar to the one he had worn daily when he was the Minutes Man for L’manberg. It pulled up unpleasant memories for him, days where he was stressed and tired and forgetful and everything piled up on him until he had a breakdown. He didn’t think it was an unfair comparison to view the two times in a similar lens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was an inherent feeling of hopelessness that would engulf Ranboo when he was with L’manberg’s cabinet. The knowledge that he was going insane but could do little to nothing about it was something that haunted him for weeks on end, along with a voice that told him similar things. It had been months since he had heard the voice and he had little expectations for it to come back, but as the past few days had proved, everything could change in an instant once he let his guard down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A state of paranoia sat on Ranboo’s shoulders, one that made them weigh down his posture that left him slouching forward more than he usually would. He ripped his eyes away from the mirror after a moment too long of introspection, tugging on his suit jacket as he avoided the eye bags and greasy hair that he was greeted with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It took a moment for him to realize that he didn’t have his crown. It took another for him to realize he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen left the bathroom, being greeted with Niki making her way down the hallway. She startled in surprise before her face went soft upon seeing Ranboo, a mournful smile fixing itself upon her lips. She patted his arm gently, encircling her hand around it carefully as an attempt to guide him on legs she suspected would be unsteady. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ready to go? Got your journal?” She asked softly. Ranboo nodded wordlessly, hands wringing together as he reached for the book in his suit jacket’s inner pocket, an action reminiscent of his first days in L’manberg. It was a cruel mockery of the times when all he had to worry about was his and Fundy’s ice cream shop doing well, and it made him want to scream about the injustice of it all before he was snapped back to the present as Niki led him down the stairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Puffy was waiting in the living room, ready to leave and dressed up in shades of gray and black that seemed wrong to the eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t think this had suited anything that Phil and Techno were like when they were alive, not at all. Techno was all shades of blue, ranging from navy to sky, deeper than the sunsets and the colours they would paint in the clouds and soft like cerulean when it came to the quiet moments at the cottage. It was most prevalent in his gentle hands when it came to handling Ranboo’s pets and the huskies he had made sure to take care of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil was all shades of green, sharp like the gleam of emerald when he was hunting mobs, slaying evokers, poking at guardians in the ocean monuments the trio would go looking for. His eyes always held a hint of intelligence in them, along with a willingness to do what he needed for the greater good. But there was also a softer side of him that came in through in sick days when Ranboo was shivering under the covers and Phil’s scarred hands would stroke his hair as he forced down bile and sneezes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The black clothing felt like spitting on their names, but Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to argue. He didn’t want to know what would fall out of his mouth if he had let himself talk. The filter between his brain and his lips was twisted around, holding him back from saying what he wanted to about how much everything hurt and only letting him speak one word at a time. He felt like he was a pipe waiting to burst at the worst moment, spraying everyone inconveniently in a single spurt of action. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he exited the house, he was glad to find that it was at least a bit gloomy. It would feel too much like a punch to the face if he found that it was sunny and bright the same day he had to send off the only people he thought he could call family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Puffy was on his left while Niki was on his right, the two working as some sort of protective brigade for the hybrid. Ranboo appreciated the fact that they were attending the funeral in the first place, as much as he wished it wasn’t happening at all. His mind hadn’t really clocked onto the fact that everything around him was real, but he did know that Puffy and Niki weren’t nearly as close to Techno and Phil as he was, so the fact that they were making the trip was something he appreciated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made his way down the path of the SMP automatically, muscle memory doing most of the work for him. Ranboo was just lucky that the paths were the one part of the SMP that would remain unchanged, despite how everything else seemed to have evolved. It seemed like everything was changing so fast that the teen could barely keep up, not with how things were progressing so much faster now that he had a large milestone to mark time with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As people slowly started to show up in his peripheral vision, Ranboo wondered just how many people had heard of what had happened. How many people had heard the story and gotten it twisted around, what had been edited from the word-of-mouth tale that seemed too fantastical for him to believe at first when he had been there for it. Ranboo could spot something resembling Quackity in front of him, making his way up the blackstone stairs that lead up to the Nether portal they would need to travel through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man disappeared on the other side before he could reach him, vanishing in a curling mist of purple and the quiet thrums of power that it radiated. Ranboo followed after, stepping into the frame and ducking out of habit as his eyes squinted over the expanse of the lake and Community House. He could faintly make out a couple of people, little bursts of desaturated colour that he could pair to people; purple splotch for Purpled, black and a bit of red for Ponk. He even thought he saw George for a moment, a smidge of blue catching his eyes before the velvety grasp of magic pulled his limbs through the portal and into the Nether. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was warm and uncomfortable the moment he stepped through, and Ranboo took the lead as he made his way over to the bridge that he had taken at least six days ago. It was cobblestone, a bit of obsidian. The bridge overhung lava without any support and pure magic holding it up, but the stones still felt loose in a way that Ranboo knew he was imagining. Puffy didn’t catch his eyes as the clouded over, catching sight of the Nether portal he knew would lead back to the tundra. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He was fairly intimate with the area that they would spawn in, blinking harshly as he made his way in and got spat into the snow, trembling slightly as vertigo hit him. Ranboo swallowed back the bile in his throat that was clawing its way out, because he wasn’t going to vomit for the fourth time in a week, before waiting for Puffy and Niki to make their way through as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The snow was beginning to soak into his shoes, his netherite boots left behind after Ranboo decided he couldn’t be bothered to summon the energy to put them on. It was easier to slip his feet into a pair of sneakers and let himself be led around rather than try and make someone do it for him. He would feel like the worst person in the world for making Puffy and Niki do everything for him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The two were so helpful over the past few days, but Ranboo didn’t want to take advantage of that. It was why he had stowed everything he had at Puffy’s into an Ender chest, planning on returning back to his shack after the funeral. He had left his pets alone for too long, anyway, and he was sure the huskies were wondering where he had gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Ranboo ignored the fact that he would only be a few feet away from the cottage next time he went to feed the dogs. He also ignored the fact that he knew Techno and Phil’s rooms were still messed up and he would need to clean them up eventually.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo pulled himself back into the present when he realized that they had reached the sight of the funeral, far ahead of Puffy and Niki, only a few minutes away from the shore of the Nether portal. He assumed it made sense, with how close it was. It would be easier to visit and pay respects to the graves, should anyone want to come visit the tundra after they were buried. Ranboo doubted they would, with how cold and empty it seemed now that most of its population was gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen could see the way that everything had been set up, polished despite the haste it took. There was a small crevice of space between a forest and a large area of snow and ice, unmoving and solid. It was dotted with trees and across a small forest on the right that Ranboo would have to trek through to get to the graves from the cottage. It was something out of a messed up fairytale, one where there was a hidden tunnel to a secret sort of world. The only difference was that all the tunnel led to was the culmination of Ranboo’s hopes for family stuck in the cold ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The terrain grew less snowy and more akin to that of a forest, yellowing pine noodles and branches dotting the ground. It almost completely covered the podzol grass, Ranboo’s back warming as the clouds cleared slightly and he felt the sun spreading its rays onto him. It made him want to turn around and curse at the sun in the way he imagined Icarus did. His chest squeezed tightly at the thought of the Greek myth and he pursed his lips together, making his way under the overpass of pine tree branches instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could see that they had set up a temporary stand to speak, along with chairs that were carved out of spruce logs, set on the ground in rows of five with two columns. Ranboo couldn’t figure out if he wanted them to fill the seats or not. The teen made his way to the clearing, spotting someone coming from the opposite side and freezing as he caught sight of who it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy was someone who was always a bit complicated, for Ranboo. He was never really able to figure out how the teen felt about him, especially not when he had decided not to go back to L’manberg for the better part of a year. Techno and Phil had always seemed a bit sad when he was mentioned, but the last he heard of the teen, he was slowly making up with the duo. Ranboo heard stories of Tommy back when he had been on the lands of SMP Earth, when the Antarctic Empire still existed for fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo knew that Tommy was closer to Phil and Techno than he was at some point in his life, despite how their relationship had crumbled near the end. He knew that he had less of a right to be sad when it came to Tommy because despite adopting Techno and Phil as family in his head, he knew that they had always been family to him. It was something he had to come to terms with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was also why he didn’t say much when Tommy’s eyes had glazed over with something akin to anger, storming up to Ranboo with a vengeance that almost made him flinch back from the shorter teen. He ended up staring at him as he fisted his shirt into his hands, Sam following a while behind, walking slowly before he realized what was happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s shouting registered in his mind a few seconds too late, getting pulled down to make eye contact with the grieving teen who was starting to cry as he shouted, voice hoarse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-You were there, why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>help?! THEY COULD BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tell me how it’s not your fault, tell me, TELL ME!” Tommy screamed at him, shaking him. The words were a slap to the face to Ranboo, who stumbled back as Tommy released his shirt, ready to throw a punch before Sam’s arms encircled around him, pulling him back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- I didn’t, I…” He trailed off as Tommy shouted over his response, words holding all the pain his anger had been fighting to beat down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>done something!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You could’ve, you could’ve, you could’ve, and maybe- And Phil and Techno wouldn’t- wouldn’t-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo couldn’t do much else but stare blankly at Tommy as the teen broke down in Sam’s arm, sobs and keening noises escaping his mouth as he turned back to press his head into his shoulder. He didn’t notice the apology that Sam mouthed over his head, vision focused on everything and nothing at once. He didn’t even realize that Niki had been tugging at his arm to sit him down until he felt wood press against his back and the legs of his suit grow slightly damp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could feel Puffy’s hand curling her fingers around his, resting on top of his thigh as he was made aware of the fact that he was here. He was sitting in front of the coffins of two of the only people who still cared about him and had remembered him. Ranboo didn’t notice Fundy and Quackity fill the seats, Hbomb and Eret joining the small crowd as even people off of the SMP had come to attend the funeral. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo, Tommy, and Sam sat near the front, a few rows away from Ranboo and in an entirely separate column. He wondered if Tubbo really was sad about their deaths before remembering the fondness he spoke of Phil with and tucking the question away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have the right to dictate someone’s emotions on their passing, he had no right. Not when he had been there and had the chance to stop this from happening and he couldn’t. Ranboo held the responsibility for their deaths, no one else. It was his fault that they were in little wooden prisons that would disappear under the snow, their existences marked out by the dash between two dates carved into a stone that would erode over time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was jolting, to realize just how easily everything seemed to fall apart at the seams when there was no support to keep it tied together. The universe was so steady some days and other days it snapped in places it never should have, leaving people to die in cases they otherwise never would have. There was another universe where Techno went out all those months ago and decided to go to the Guardian farm rather than the spider one and all of this would have been avoided, but Ranboo was cursed to live with this future ahead of him. His left hand’s claws dug into his thigh, pinching at leathery skin he wished he could draw blood from. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to focus when he was sitting in a group of people, stewing in guilt that he didn’t know he was holding onto until Tommy had brought it to the front of his mind, full force. Ranboo wasn’t sure how to deal with the fact that he had been the one to cause all of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear anyone get up and get to the front, speaking out to start the readings and giving the chance for anyone to say what they might need to until Puffy nudged him ever-so-slightly, Ranboo’s head snapping up in time for him to see Bad leave the stand and be promptly replaced by Tommy. The teen looked emotionally wrecked, and he held a piece of paper in his hand that was crinkled up into an ugly ball a moment later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo watched as he opened his mouth, closing it and looking almost desperately at Sam before taking a deep breath and preparing to speak once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- Um. I don’t really…” He took a deep breath, shaking his head before standing up straighter, hands on the stand in front of him as he spoke, trembling. “Phil and Techno were. Me and them didn’t have the best… best of times. Lately. But we were- They were still my family. And I still loved them. I wish I got the chance to… To say something, I guess. But sometimes the universe doesn’t line up like that. And people don’t get happy endings and things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. But I- I guess, I just wanted to say that…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The teen swallowed back what looked like a sob, eyes growing shiny as he rubbed at them with the heel of his palm harshly. “I’ll miss them,” He gasped out, scrambling away from the stand and taking a seat again. A quiet murmur spread across the crowd but it was quickly silenced when Bad had come to the stand again. Ranboo spared a glance at his watch for the time, surprised to find an hour had passed. It hadn’t felt like more than five minutes since he got there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does anyone else want to say something?” Bad asked, voice soft yet guiding in a way that was perfect for where they were at the moment. Ranboo hated the fact that there needed to be a funeral in the first place and he didn’t know how much he could reiterate that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without realizing, the teen rose to his feet, drawing attention as Bad gave him a questioning look. Ranboo looked around, snapping back to the present and glancing to Niki, who nodded, before looking back to Bad and nodding in response. The rows were quiet as he made his way down the middle of the two columns, walking up to the stand. He paused in his step as he saw the two coffins behind it, wanting to turn tail and leave before remembering something stupid Techno had said about him needing to speak up and standing up a bit taller. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he reached the front, he realized just how nerve-wracking it was to be up there with so many eyes on him. No one prompted him to hurry, so he took the time to pull his notebook out of his suit jacket, laying it down on the stand over what he assumed were Bad’s notes. Ranboo flipped the book open, finding that no pages other than the first two were filled. He had already memorized what they said, engraved into his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a quiet bit of murmuring as he stood up there for too long without speaking, his mouth dry as he cleared his throat and looked down at the pages again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just… um,” Ranboo said dumbly, feeling something close to wetness gather in his eyes. His mind drifted back to Tommy’s angered words and he swallowed back a lump in his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to say sorry,” He said finally, hands curling into fists where they rested on top of the stand. “I- I wanted to say sorry to- to Phil and Techno. For not… Not helping. When I… I could have, I was there, I was with them for almost a year, I should’ve noticed the Egg- Or, I, I could’ve-” He cut himself off, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. Ranboo didn’t dare flinch or hiss at the pain, using it to ground himself as he continued speaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I didn’t do more, I’m sorry. This is my fault, I should’ve- I could’ve done- Helped heal, or- I’m really sorry, I’m sorry-” He vaguely registered someone gently guiding him away from the stand with an arm around his shoulders, his hands wrapped around the book firmly. Ranboo didn’t even realize he was crying until his face began to burn and he shook the arm off of him, speed walking out of the small clearing and gasping for air as he knelt down into the ground, crying softly into his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t hear anyone come after him, only feeling someone else put a hand on his back hesitantly. He didn’t take the time to figure out who it was, only sobbing harder as the tears ate away at his face and reignited old wounds. The teen leaned forward, his forehead meeting someone’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around them, a hand curling into their shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ranboo cried, apologizing endlessly only to be greeted with Tubbo’s soft voice, a hand carding through his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” He soothed, patting his back a bit awkwardly as he rubbed it after, the touch feeling like fire to Ranboo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve helped- I could’ve healed him, but I- I-” Ranboo could barely speak through his wracking cries, gasping for a shuddering breath at the end of his sentence as he fought through the tears to speak. He ignored Tubbo’s quiet hushes, trying to get out the truth before he could fucking forget. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a healing po- potion, and I- I tried to give it to them, to- to Techno, and… And it- the lid- it wouldn’t come f- fucking off, because my hands- There was so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo, I’m so sorry,” Ranboo confessed through a ragged sob, gaining nothing but a soft, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Ranboo,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ from the teen only a few months older than him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen shook as he cried, not seeing Tubbo frown at Sam and Tommy over his head, Niki and Puffy a bit farther back in comparison. The readings were still going on inside, but Tubbo had his gaze fixated on Tommy’s puffy face, who looked the slightest bit guilty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault, Ranboo, I swear,” Tubbo answered, getting a bit choked up as he spoke. “It’s just- You had no way of knowing. You couldn’t help at that point. If- If Techno wanted to die…” His voice faltered at that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Techno wanted to die, there was nothing you could’ve done to stop him,” Tubbo finished, Ranboo still trembling in his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He whimpered in reply, sounding so much like a child that he wished he was just eleven again, regardless of where he was before. Ranboo was sure it would hurt less than this, would hurt less than feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and that he was going to suffocate and his heart was going to fail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to accept the fact that after six days of trying to come to terms with what had happened, that they were gone. It wouldn’t be Techno easing him out of a panic attack with kind words that were rare and hit him hard every time they were uttered. That Phil wouldn’t come up to him with that familiar concern and cradle his face the way he did when he wanted to make sure whoever he was trying to help was okay. Like Ranboo was fine china worth the gentle touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t, he would rather be dead with them than try to live in a world without them but he was a coward and he didn’t want to see anymore blood. Not after seeing Techno’s and Phil’s spilled on his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Ranboo,” Tubbo whispered as a reply. Ranboo shook his head, shoving his face closer into his shirt as it grew soaked with tears and little hints of blood from places where the burns on his face were too raw to take more. The air grew colder once more and Ranboo bit back another sob as he mourned the family he almost had. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>go out for coffee four times a week by yourself. always bring your notebook, never stop writing. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, it was Ranboo and Niki who was left back at the graves, long after everyone else had left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Puffy had gone with Sam after promising the pair that she would be back at home when they got there. Ranboo remembered she said something about making sure the Egg was secure and bloodvines weren’t going to jump anyone on the way home. Anyone being Tubbo and Tommy, as Sam couldn’t watch both at once as well as making sure they wouldn’t be attacked in the Nether. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had passively waved her off, barely giving a reaction as he resisted the urge to sob again. He had already cried himself dry on Tubbo’s shoulder and he didn’t think he had anything else left to give. The thought made him feel unbelievably selfish as it rolled through his head, so the teen did his best to pretend that it never passed through his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niki had stepped back as Ranboo made his way over to the graves, legs shaking slightly. The teen had tried to force himself to look at their faces (</span>
  <em>
    <span>corpses</span>
  </em>
  <span>) before they were lowered into the ground, but one look at just Techno was enough to freeze him up. Seeing the scar down his face and dried blood that had welled up while he was cooling inside the wood had him choking down another breakdown, unable to handle it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo shook out his hair, sitting down to kneel in front of both graves, freshly placed dirt on the top staining his pants legs slightly from where the pile where it previously sat still remained overtop the pine needles. He let his dead eyes examine the engravings that had been etched into stone, knowing that he would get intimately close with them over the next few months, or however long he would last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>PHILZA KORONIS</span>
</p><p>
  <span>LOVING FATHER, FRIEND, PROTECTOR, AND HOME.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>XX00 - XX26</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo stared at the last word for a bit too long, revelling in the hundreds of meanings that could possibly come from the word home. It could be a physical sense, in the way the man was always willing to take so many in despite the heartbreak that came with seeing the paths they went down. Ranboo knew that the man was one to hold the instances of Wilbur and Tommy’s betrayal too close to his heart, wounding himself in the process. It was a bit too late for him to tell Phil that he never saw him as any worse for them, despite how he implied it ages ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil was always home in an emotional sense, though. In the way that his hands held a warmth to them that was never found anywhere else, scarred skin cupping a cheek gently as soft lips brushed against his forehead. He could almost feel the ghost of a hug around his shoulders and the ruffle of feathers echoed in his ears as he recalled the rainy days spent doing chores with the man. It made his heart twinge painfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he could let himself linger on it for too long, his eyes dragged over to the other headstone, reading off the inscription as the sun slowly set, painting the clearing in golden light that seemed too bright for what had laid in the small space between the forest of pine and ice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>TECHNO HERA BLADE</span>
</p><p>
  <span>BROTHER, WARRIOR, HERO, BLOOD GOD, AND TRAITOR.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>XX00 - XX21 </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Traitor, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the word echoed in his head. It ate at his insides, reminded him of an insignificant festival so long ago. He remembered the way Techno had given him his journal as withers blew up the rest of the area, remembered him offering him shelter despite it being Phil who had dragged him along in the first place. Ranboo stared at the word until his eyes hurt from not blinking and the rage that built up in his chest seemed almost unbidden as the engravings were read over and over and over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was Techno nothing more than a warrior, a follower of the Blood God, a traitor? Did they forget of his kindness and gentle encouragement in combat, the softer side of him that labelled him as a potato farmer, a tutor, a good friend? Was he not deserving of those titles? Would his legacy be tarnished in death and remembered by the faulty words of a stupid Blackstone that shouldn’t have been in the ground in the first place? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It made Ranboo want to scream, the injustice of it. His hands were trembling too much for him to even try and vandalize it, and his shoulders were shaking similarly. He could vaguely feel Niki put a hand on his shoulder to pull him back, as though she assumed he was crying again. He wouldn’t blame her. He felt like crying after reading the gravestones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lives were so easily summed up in a small dash. An insignificant line between two dates that did nothing to show their kindness and heart and bravery, did nothing to illustrate Phil’s addictive laugh nor Techno’s compassion that could only be felt when he patted Ranboo on the back. It was stupid, how human lives had so much to give and so little to be remembered by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After what felt like at least five minutes passing in the span of half an hour, he slowly got up from where he was sitting. The dirt and mud had left stains in his pants that he knew would be near impossible to scrub off with the motivation he had, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Ranboo shook off his hands, wiping them off on his legs before making his way back to Niki, who held out a hand to him to lead him back home </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, he considered it, before remembering how his poisonous presence made everything worse for everyone around him. He remembered how Niki had been going through a hard time in the past year, how she had made strides to get better with Puffy and let out her unresolved anger and learned to get better with Jack. Ranboo knew he couldn’t infect her, too, so he shook his head at the hand that was offered. He ignored the way her face fell at the refusal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to stay a bit longer?” She asked helplessly. Ranboo could tell that she had already figured out what was going on, though Niki didn’t seem to want to accept it. He shook his head, anyway, stepping back and tucking his hands into the pockets of the large trench coat he wore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to go back home- To the cottage,” He corrected himself, fighting to make his voice assertive rather than weak how it had been before. “To feed the dogs. And my pets. It’s been a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- Are you sure, Ranboo? You know me and Puffy would be happy to house you for as long as you might need, I promise.” Her voice was pleading, despite the sadness that was layered over it. He shook his head, despite the longing for him to reach out and take someone’s help. Ranboo didn’t think he could handle what was happening, not from even a third-person standpoint. But he couldn’t hurt Niki, not like he hurt Techno and Phil and Tommy and Tubbo and Fundy and everyone else he wished he could apologize to without crumbling to pieces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll… I’ll call you if I need you, yeah?” Ranboo tacked on at the end, the offer weak and coupled with a bit of a laugh that didn’t sound genuine to his ears. Niki hesitated, nodding after a moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay. Do you need to go and get your stuff?” Ranboo shook his head, picking at his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No no, I, uh- I put it in an Ender chest earlier.” The implication behind the words was enough for Niki to wilt a bit, realizing that he had been planning this for a while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Ranboo nodded slowly, stumbling over his words before he finally spoke up properly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m- I’m sorry,” The words fell out of his lips before he could recognize that Niki was hugging him, her arms around his neck as he was tugged down slightly for him to rest his head on top of hers. The teen froze up for a moment before he returned the embrace, holding onto her as though she was the only thing that was keeping him grounded. In a way, she was. Niki was the one thing that was keeping him from returning to the cottage and seeing everything he wished he could forget about. But she didn’t know that, and Ranboo wouldn’t tell her that, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please be safe,” She whispered, almost missing Ranboo’s ears as he zoned back into the real world. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s breath stuttered at the words, freezing momentarily before he curled around her closer, reluctant to let go of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will,” He lied, voice softer as he spoke truthfully and tried to give off how genuine he was. “I love you, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three words held more weight than Ranboo could ever give words to, let alone express in his voice alone. It was something about how Niki was warm and willing to overlook his mistakes, took him in despite his part in everything, made the conscious choice to care for him when she could have left him behind. The way that she had become a home away from home and didn’t forget him despite how he had run off to the tundra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo wished there were enough words in the English language for him to express just how much he wanted to convey in the words. They were so overused that they felt dry, despite how he could feel the tenderness that Niki always gave to those who needed it in her words. He wished a lot of things, but mostly for his emotions to be seen as tried and true in front of those he cared for. It never seemed like enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, sister,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He whispered in Endspeak, the words more natural than he had suspected they ever could be in the harsh language. She didn’t flinch, only squeezing him a bit tighter before pulling back, wiping tears from her face with a small smile. Niki gave him a nod, taking his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Ranboo nodded, letting his hand fall to his side as she let go of it, the girl turning to leave. He watched her leave until she was a smidge of colour by the Nether portal, disappearing a couple moments later. The teen was left with the graves, and he turned to face them for a moment before his face crumpled and he turned away from them, making the trek home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>leave little comics and thank you notes with your tips, watch them smile as you get in your car. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had spent at least a week in his shack before he gathered up the courage to go back to the home that he had once spent all his free time in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had gotten back to his home, the first thing he had done was go and check up on the animals he kept in the basement of his shack. They seemed okay, despite the lack of food he had been given them. When he examined his stores of food, it was easy to see why they hadn’t been clawing for attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enderchest and Enderpearl had been happy enough, both of them slouching around until they caught sight of him and leaping to climb up to him like he was a tree and sitting themselves down on his shoulder and head, respectively. It had drawn a smile out of him, as sad as it might have been. It was better than nothing, Ranboo told himself, pushing down the guilt that came with him daring to be happy after such a tragedy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two birds he had, Oreo and Fruit, had been sleeping when he came down. They didn’t awaken at his arrival, so he assumed they had a large meal to eat and fell into something of a food coma in the way they used to when Ranboo had just gotten them and grossly overestimated how much to feed them. Ranbun had been hopping around in her little pen right by the home, a pile of rabbit food in the bowl he had left behind a while ago, so he wasn’t too worried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, Ranboo had slid down the wall of his basement after gathering all his pets, letting himself relax and slump over completely, burying his face in Ranbun’s fur as the rabbit snuggled into his arms. He was forever grateful that the companions he seemed to have attracted were empaths, in a sense, with how they didn’t rile him up by cawing and barking at him as they usually did. It was a welcome change and one that he wouldn’t take for granted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as though even his pets were aware that something terrible had happened, even if they didn’t know the details. They couldn’t possibly know that two-thirds of their little family was gone, so he settled for ignoring the problem at hand, devoting all his time to make up for how much he had neglected his pets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo knew he had to go feed the huskies, and that they would probably be hungry if they made their way through the automated dog food that Phil had made for them in the case something would happen. He also knew that rotten flesh was much more fulfilling and he had more than enough to go and feed them. But, at the same time, he felt like he had a ball and chain on his ankle keeping him from stepping too close to the cottage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something wrong with looking at the spruce home with no smoke curling out of the chimney, no loud yelling, no smell of warm dinner and lights that would bring a glow to the tundra amid a snowstorm that would give the aura of home and belonging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had taken the time to figure out that it was never the cottage that was home. Rather, it was Techno and Phil who had made it into something besides an empty building. With them gone, almost all the life was sucked out of the walls that once were his biggest comfort after a long day out in the wild. Now, it was a reminder of his mistakes that he could never be rid of, and one he could never leave behind. In his good conscience, he recognized that he would be selfish should he pretend that it never happened by leaving everything of theirs behind. It was like it was his duty to make sure they wouldn’t fade with time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was self-imposed punishment, in a way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Ranboo had awoken, a week after the funeral, he knew that he couldn’t put it off any longer. Most of the emotions had been brought on by the fact that it was a Monday, and it was the only day that he and Techno would spend in the basement of his home, working to organize the chests that had quickly grown disorganized while Phil went out to get his daily rations from the Nether. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was tradition, in a sense, though it was one that was loosely enforced. Ranboo felt wrong when he had to confront the fact that he would have to skip out on it should he try to avoid the occasion. The teen made his decision as he stared up at the roof of his shack, unblinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enderpearl seemed to have caught on to what had been going on, with how the cat curled around his feet in the early hours of the day, her tail whipping around his ankles in a comforting way. Ranboo found himself thankful for her once more, leaving her brother to rest as he picked her up and sat her down on his shoulders where she would spend most of her time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got ready slowly, liberal in his movements as though he were trying to stall. It probably was something his psyche was forcing himself to do, not wanting to face the source of all his bittersweet memories. Ranboo knew he was looking for excuses not to go when he pulled on his hoodie and almost cancelled the entire trip when it felt a bit off on his skin. He steeled himself, pulling on his black boots and pulling a jacket over the hoodie before pulling the hood up, protecting his hair from the little bits of snow that sprinkled down from the gray sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cat stayed on his shoulders after he had gotten ready, the clock on his comm showing the time to be about six am. Ranboo took a deep breath, looking out at the dawn slowly approaching the tundra and stepping outside into the cool chill of Spring. Goosebumps grew on his arms almost immediately, and Enderpearl moved to sit inside his hood, wrapped around Ranboo’s neck as though she were a warm scarf. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her presence kept him grounded as he made his way to the cottage, hands trembling despite their tight grip on the sack of rotten flesh that he had prepared for the Huskies. As he made his way to the doghouse, he was reminded of the fact that there would be no greeting from Techno that he was so used to and grimaced, lips pursing together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enderpearl’s paws kneading into his collarbone made him forget about it, if not only for a moment. He hummed appreciatively, blinking back tears in his stinging eyes as he scratched her head gently. The cat purred in response, and Ranboo made his way to the door of the dog house to open it, head poking in to see the state of the huskies he had left behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were excited, to say the least, and the familiar sight made Ranboo let out a watery chuckle, holding the sack of rotten flesh in front of him as a couple of the regulars ran up to jump at his chest and legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Dogboos,” He said, voice hoarse from almost two weeks of disuse. They barked at the term of endearment from the teen, tails wagging in excitement. Ranboo almost found himself jealous of the energy they exuded, wilting a bit in their presence before his hands automatically made work to throw the meat out to the back, the few that had been clinging onto him running after it immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It made him want to cry, for a moment. To see that little parts of his life were still the same. That Techno and Phil hadn’t affected every part of them when it felt like the end of the world when they died. That the world could still move forward without them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A moment later, he shook off the thought, moving to sit down slowly as Enderpearl made herself comfortable in the hood of his sweater, using it as a little pouch to lie in as she pulled it down. Ranboo watched as the calmer of the group of dogs made their way to him, one that he was most fond of sitting his head down in Ranboo’s lap. The teen watched for a moment, surprised as he snuffled in his lap as though he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer who murdered Phil and Techno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robotically, he started throwing out pieces of meat to the rest of them, the smell not bothering him as it usually did. It was like everything was either dulled or saturated to the max, and it all teetered on his mood of the day. He hated the days where he felt too overstimulated to leave his bed, knowing that he was wasting time. Logically, he knew that it wasn’t too different from him sitting down and staring at nothing as he fed his pets in an attempt to keep them alive and happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo felt as though he was stuck in a loop of useless tasks to work through like a video game character, this being some sort of build-up to a bigger quest where he would prove his worth to fight some shadow monster. Realistically, there was nothing past this. Nothing past the heartbreak of losing people he loved. Just a timer until he went insane or died as well, finding himself slumping over the dog in his lap as his finger gently knotted into his fur, nose pressed into his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spots, he remembered the name faintly. A funny one, considering he was the only one unmarked in the group of them. Snow white with fur that was stained a bit red around the muzzle after the festival. A gentle giant despite the violence he had shown in his first debut to the public. Ranboo never really made a point to single him out, but now, with the husky resting with him while he was nearing a breakdown, he couldn’t help but value him more than he probably would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he couldn’t avoid the cottage forever, not with its presence looming over his shoulder. He didn’t need an unbuilt roof to know that it was practically taunting him from behind, as though saying that he was too much of a coward to face his mistakes. It reminded Ranboo of a conversation he had long ago with Fundy when war was the only constant between everyone on the server and they had yet to learn kindness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That he was a coward, for trying to choose sides. For trying to make one and listening to his words and ignoring them. Ranboo realized slowly that he had doomed himself by ignoring his analogy. That he picked sides and now he had no one left, really. No one cared the way Phil and Techno ever did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo grimaced as he remembered the state their rooms were left in, as well as the rest of the cottage before slowly getting to his feet. He had to face this head-on. He ignored the small part of his mind that told him it was okay to wait and healing was a long and slow process that couldn’t be rushed. It sounded too much like Phil and the teen didn’t want to think about the implications of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spots snuffled sleepily as he moved his head out of his lap gently, curling up by the door to warm himself up. Ranboo felt a jolt of guilt before he closed the door, leaving the bag in there for the rest of them to fight over. It wasn’t anything he would normally do, but the situation he was in wasn’t anything that would normally happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen took a deep breath, feeling Enderpearl’s soft pants on the back of his neck, whiskers tickling his skin as he made his way up the steps. Ranboo stopped in front of the door, hesitating before he pushed it open, a similar dread building in his stomach as the feeling from two weeks ago. Ranboo’s eyes raked over the living room, taking in everything with a fresh eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was still messy as before, nothing changed. He wasn’t sure whether or not to be disappointed when he was greeted with the sight of everything right where it had been left. He wished that it was normal, everything neat and tidy so he could convince himself he was stuck in a bad dream like he used to have all the time. It would certainly hurt less than coming to terms with the fact that Phil wouldn’t be coming back with Techno from an ocean monument hunt as he used to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen made his way through the first floor slowly, not daring to go upstairs to see Techno and Phil’s rooms. He didn’t think he was ready for that, not in a million years. The dust that was building up in his lungs made it hard for him to breathe, the hybrid coughing weakly as he made his way through the silent kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was unnatural, Ranboo repeated in his head, looking around. The cottage was never meant to look this dead, this abandoned. It felt like just yesterday it had been filled with light and colours, Christmas only just rolling around and decorations being put up by a begrudging Techno who frowned at Phil as the man laughed about childhood photos that someone had mailed him once. A long time ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memory was a fond one, one that he held close to him and would treasure forever. It was one of the first Christmases he had with someone. Ranboo just wished it wasn’t his only one with Techno and Phil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost automatically, Ranboo moved to start cleaning up space, hands quivering as he moved around the things on the couch. He folded a shawl that looked old and weather, holding a gray to white gradient on its threads. He set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, which was clear of anything. His movements were slow and mostly muscle memory as he went on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo picked up the potion bottles that dotted the stairs that he could reach from the living room, throwing them in the pile of glass bits to be smelted that they kept next to the fireplace in a large basket. He didn’t react to the sound of the glass clinking against each other, not acknowledging the bitter smell of weakness potion staining his hands. The teen paused as his hands brushed over a dark red cape, freezing where he stood as Enderpearl meowed at the sudden halt in motion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The colour almost served to mock him as Ranboo straightened up, the cloth held so tightly in his hands that he could almost tear through it. Almost immediately, he loosened his grip, trying not to tear through the threads of something that had belonged to Techno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was safe to say that he used to think that Techno never took off the cape before he had gotten acquainted with the man. It was such a big part of his image that Ranboo couldn’t imagine him without it, whether it be blue or red or just a cape in general. It was one of the things he would see in Hypixel lobbies the most, whether it be posters of the man painted in a dramatic light or people who liked to dress like him. It was always a red cape, crown, and pig mask or ears or nose of some sort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So to meet the man himself and see him take it off in the comfort of his home was something strange, almost alien. It felt like something too personal for him to see, the first time it had happened. Like the man had decided that he trusted Ranboo and never explicitly said it. Maybe it was making a mountain out of a molehill, but it was one of the first times that Ranboo had felt as though he had truly gained the trust of someone on their lands that he could do the same for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno was someone that he had looked up to for a long time, and someone that he never really was scared of, per se. Just a bit wary before he had gotten to know the man. Phil had contributed to this generous view of the piglin hybrid, with how he repeated over and over how he was a big softy underneath all the reputation and blood that he had made his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo found that he was right, in the end. It was solidified after the man had given him his cape for a night he had spent over late, organizing materials with Phil and losing track of time. He had been wearing a t-shirt at the time and found himself wishing that he had brought along something warmer to keep himself from freezing. Ranboo almost bit through his tongue with how much his teeth were chattering, before he felt something being draped over his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he looked up, he was greeted with Techno, the man’s arms crossed as he looked away from the teen, Ranboo’s fingers automatically curling around the edge of the cape before realizing what he was wearing. The teen looked up at the time, ready to question him before being patted on the head by a quick hand and it being pulled back the moment Phil came back down the stairs. Techno made his way out past Phil as he brought back hot chocolate, the older of the two laughing in amusement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something small that had made him feel at home with Techno, despite how early it was in their relationship. Ranboo had forgotten what the warm hand on his head felt like, and he found himself reaching up with his own as he sat down on the couch, putting it on top and patting it in the way Techno had. It wasn’t the same, despite how he didn’t remember it. It wasn’t the same because it wasn’t Techno and Techno was dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno was dead, Ranboo repeated in his head numbly as he stared at the red cape in his hands, bringing it up to his face. If he buried his nose in it, he could faintly smell a warm fireplace and pine that clung to it once he started living in the tundra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t even abnormal, but it still made Ranboo’s mouth open in a silent scream as he crumpled over the fabric, tears running into the fabric as Enderpearl tried her best to comfort the grieving teen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not fair,” Ranboo gasped out, as though Enderpearl would hear his sorrows and grant him comfort. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It should have been me. I should’ve-” He cut himself off, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with the fabric. He pulled his face back, looking at his feet as he let the fabric hang loosely in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen’s bleary eyes wandered until they fell on a pair of glasses resting on the mantle of the fireplace, circular and gold with a small chain on the rims that connected, looking like something of a necklace. Ranboo stumbled to his feet, reaching out with a free hand to grab it before moving back to the couch, staring at the object before hugging it close to his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno’s glasses. He hadn’t been buried with them, and a childish thought ran through his head as he fought back another flood of tears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How is he supposed to see without his glasses? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not fair,” He repeated brokenly, no tears coming with the sentence despite his vision blurring drastically. There was nothing more to be said, sitting in a shrine of memories that he wished he could relive forever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t care if it was unhealthy at this point. All he wanted was his family back. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>talk down on yourself whenever possible. my life is shit because i deserve it, right? </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Ranboo about another month to try and cope with what happened before he decided that he couldn’t do it anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something weird, to adapt to life without them and life avoiding the cottage he was so used to visiting. More often than not, he would wake up and forget everything that happened before turning back to the cottage and noticing the lack of smoke curling up from the fireplace and being reminded of what had happened. And every time, it felt like a stab to the heart that hurt more than he could have ever imagined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lot of his time went into making sure his farm was at its best on the days he could drag himself out of bed. Most days, he would end up crying himself to sleep on the days he couldn’t bring himself to live in a world without two of the most important people in them. Ranboo never realized how dependent he was on them until he had to live without them and the gaps they left weren’t easily filled in like they used to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how to cope with the fact that when he woke up from a nightmare, he couldn’t drag himself over to the cottage and find Phil reading in front of the fireplace at around three am. Ranboo didn’t know what to do about the fact that Techno wouldn’t ever come by to wake him up at seven am for an unorthodox adventure, sometimes waking up on his own on random days that were almost always suited for travelling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had taken to not wearing his armour in the rain as well, finding it easier to let himself get burnt by the droplets than try and deal with the fact that he would need to spend more energy putting on the pieces of the chest plate and helmet and leggings. He didn’t want to do anything anymore, not like how he used to spend hours mining with Tubbo in his ear through a comm, rambling on and on as he made his way through large tunnels and gathered more resources than he would ever need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen was just glad that he was productive before this whole mess happened, finding masses of stockpiled food and golden carrots and iron and everything he would need for about the next year in his basement and storage. Ranboo was sure that there was more stuff in the basement of the cottage that he could use, but it felt wrong to go rooting around in Techno and Phil’s stuff, especially when they weren’t around to give permission. There was something about it that made his stomach twist, the same way it did when he expressed the urge to bring one of Techno’s books about Greek Mythology back with him to his shack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was like the home was a memorial sight that he couldn’t disturb in fear of getting in trouble. Realistically, he was the only one who would go in it for a very long time, probably the only one that would be there to keep it clean and shiny on the first floor. He just felt like spitting on the rules they had set out and doing it because they weren’t there was more scummy than just leaving it behind altogether. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had accepted they were gone, he thought. A month and a half had been more than enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a bad dream that he was stuck in with no way out. He knew that Techno and Phil wouldn’t one day shake him into consciousness and he would fall into their arms, happy to see them alive and well. There was no happy ending where he could bring them back or learn that he had been mistaken all this time. He knew that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also knew that it was his fault they were gone, his fault and no one else's. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On paper, the explanation was that the Egg had driven Techno insane and made him kill Phil before he killed himself. With the context that Ranboo knew, he knew that the blame was on him more than it was on the Egg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That might have been an exaggeration, but his point still stood. If Ranboo had noticed that Techno had been infected by the Egg early on, he might have been able to nip the problem in the bud and stopped it from becoming something that would end up influencing Techno the way it did. Phil hadn’t noticed, but Phil didn’t know about the Egg the way Ranboo did. He had been the one to go with Tubbo to install a defence against it, a bit of nature in a little cavern right next to the spider spawner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo knew it was in the spider spawner, he knew how big it was, he knew what it did to Antfrost and Bad and what it almost did to Sam. He knew and he didn’t notice what happened to Techno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even if that didn’t hold up, he should have woken up earlier. Maybe if he stopped Techno from leaving that day, had been more ready for what had happened, had more potions or the lids weren't so tight he would have been able to do something. Maybe if Ranboo had been there when Techno first gave into the Egg, he would have been able to talk him down with Phil’s help. There were so many things that he could have done and the guilt was eating him alive, crawling through his ribs and into his heart with something painful and barbed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like poison making its way up through his veins that had made him want to end it all for good, one day. It had been a bad day for him, one that was full of reminders and guilt and things that he never wanted to deal with again. The whine of the huskies when they realized that they could smell Techno on him and not see the man himself. The way that Ranboo turned to his left to find no one there more than once. The swell of the winds that blew his hood off and made him wish Phil’s wings were there to help him stay steady on his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a build-up of things that had made him give up on what he considered a half-life, what he saw as nothing but prolonging the inevitable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had spent nearly an hour staring up at the ceiling, all those bad feelings filling his chest until he felt like he was going to burst. He didn’t even feel like crying, not when the pressure building up in his chest made him feel more like he was going to end up breaking at the first tear rather than feeling better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was like putting fine china under pressure to stress-test him until it had broken under the weight and was replaced with another to test its limits again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right now, Ranboo could feel cracks slowly forming on the edges before it would break from the middle and leave him in hundreds of pieces until he finally shattered from the inside out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think anyone had visited in a long while, despite Niki’s promise to. His comm had died a long time ago, left uncharged after a day of inactivity where he had left it on by accident. Ranboo didn’t have enough energy to find it the next day, nor did he have the energy to do it the day after, or the day after. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought about a lot of things while he was staring up at his ceiling, thoughts swirling in his mind as he made an effort to go over things he might have missed. Oddly enough, one of the only things that he could make note of was that he wouldn’t be able to feed his pets or the huskies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed like something stupid to focus on, but it was another thing that he needed to be relied on for. It was insignificant and stupid and he didn’t know why it was the things that made him want to throw up in the grass as he did back at Puffy’s. The thought of Enderchest and Enderpearl starving was a thought that he despised, one that made him want to live until he realized that it would be best to ask someone to take care of his pets before he went. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were a lot of people who he crossed off his list, Ranboo thought to himself, making himself sit up and charge his comm before he made any rash decisions. The thought of killing himself wasn’t one that hadn’t crossed his mind before, but this time in comparison to all the others was one that had made him feel calmer than it ever did before. The thought that his life would end as soon as he found someone to take care of his pets was one that didn’t register in his mind as much as his self-destructive thoughts a year ago did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil would have called it a relapse. Techno would have called it something that made him want to forget how important he was. Ranboo would call it sweet retribution for the terrible things he had done to earn himself a place in the afterlife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he would find himself with Techno and Phil, he found himself hoping lifelessly, a bit of excitement draining into his bones at the thought. He made the effort to get up and get a bit dressed up. He ignored the whines of his cats and the distressed squawks of his birds, the sound filtering out of his ears as he focused on his end goal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo made his way to the back of the basement, looking through his chests and pausing as his hands ghosted over the cloak that he had been gifted by Phil so many months ago. He had left it in his chest after he had been given it had been given to him, knowing that he would end up spoiling it during one of his expeditions out with the rest of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembered that at one point that Techno and Phil had approached him, asking if he hadn’t been planning to stay because of how he never wore it, and it took one quick conversation for him to prove he valued it more than he could express. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something that had made him smile at the time, but he felt numb as he stared at it now, blue fabric feeling like it was falling apart in his hands despite how the threads were knitted together strong as they had been the day before. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from it before he shook his head, taking it out of the chest to put it on, clipping it around his neck over the top of the black sweater he wore and fastened it carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only right that he wore it on his way out so that it wouldn’t be forgotten in his basement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he could ask Niki to take care of his pets, he thought absently, making his way back upstairs. Ranboo looked to see if his comm was charged, finding it at thirty percent and seeing that it was charged enough for what he was planning on. He wouldn’t want to bother Niki more than he already had, though, so he decided not to contact her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mind flitted over the other members of the SMP, thinking of people that he could ask to take care of his pets that would be up at one am. Hbomb was off the list, as were Eret and George. Sapnap was never on the list, to begin with, and Tommy and Tubbo were crossed off after remembering that they were probably grieving as well. Sam was taken off the list, remembering that he was probably busy with the prison, despite Dream’s lack of activity. Puffy, Purpled, Punz, Ponk, Fundy, Skeppy, Jack, Quackity, Connor, Foolish, just about everyone was crossed off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He considered asking Bad or Ant, just for a moment, before something ugly made him throw the thought out of his head as though it had never been the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know who to ask, didn’t know who to turn to, who would bother to care for his pets when no one ever cared for him in the first place. It was enough for unreasonable anger to grow in his chest, running a hand through his hair before he made his way outside into the snow. He stumbled out on shaky legs and made his way through the tundra with bleary eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sky was dark and starry, beautiful despite the tragedy that had befallen the lands. It was like the world was spitting on him with things that he knew he would never be able to see happily without his friends. It was upsetting, and it made him angrier than he had thought it would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo screamed, stumbling to his knees as he felt the bones in them hit the ground harshly, ignoring the stinging pain that came with his limbs slamming into the dirt. His knees got wet with mud and snow and slush, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, yelling at the sky as though it was the reason for all his problems. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you insist on MOCKING ME?!” He screamed to the sky, clutching at his chest with a clawed hand as his other dug into the ground to keep him balanced despite his seat on the ground. “How can you just- Just- Why? Why, why why why why, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” His voice broke at the end, shaking with a cry despite the rage that was begging to be let out of him before he let himself go into the beyond to see Techno and Phil. He didn’t want to be mad when he saw them again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s- it’s- I don’t like it here,” Ranboo confessed, talking to himself like he had what felt like a million years ago before he had Techno’s quiet listening ear to keep him company on nights that he felt like everything was too much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that this- It’s my fault, isn’t it? And if it isn’t my fault then it’s theirs, and it’s not their fault because they’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s- I- You’re not… Why is everything so cruel, why does the world insist on- ripping everything away from me. My memory, my friends, my family, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. I thought you were supposed to be just and fair and that the universe wasn’t a piece of </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>God, I hate it so much.” Ranboo’s voice cracked at the end of his nonsensical rambling, shaking his head with a fervour that he wished he could ignore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wish they were still here, I wish I was with them, I wish someone cared like they did, I wish I could find someone to take care of my pets so I could just fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>die.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The words were met with a quiet gasp from behind him, the teen whipping around to see if anyone was near him. Ranboo’s eyes fell on Ghostbur’s form, who looked considerably less cheerful than he usually did. A stab of guilt hit Ranboo’s heart, why couldn’t he just stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurting </span>
  </em>
  <span>people- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo?” The ghost’s voice echoed, a pale gray hand reaching out for him. “Are you okay?” Ranboo swallowed at the question, wanting to answer truthfully but knowing it wouldn’t be taken well by the ghost. He nodded, instead, forcing a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ghostbur. I didn’t… I didn’t see you there. I’m fine, don’t worry about me too much,” Ranboo chuckled weakly at the end of his sentence, trying to punctuate it with something that would make him look less suspicious to the simple-minded ghost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It must not have worked, or Ghostbur was a lot more lucid than he usually was, as the spectre’s frown deepened before he spoke up again. His hand pressed against Ranboo’s shoulder, the cold chill not registering as he looked up at him, feeling a bit reminded of the Wilbur Soot that he had read about rather than the ghost who usually wore his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go back home, yeah?” The words made Ranboo feel bitter, not bothering to hide it as he shrugged the hand off of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>home,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He hissed, voice holding layers of hurt that Ranboo himself was scared to unwrap. The ghost looked at him for a good few moments, silence prominent in the field as Ranboo felt the water seep into his clothes, snow melting under him as Ghostbur (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur?</span>
  </em>
  <span>) pulled him up to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done a good job for yourself so far,” The ghost murmured, voice not as echoey as he remembered, “But it’s time to rest now, yeah? Give the reins over to someone else and sleep. You’ve done well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen stumbled for a minute, catching himself on Ghostbur’s shirt, yellow fabric cold and textureless under his hands. Ranboo didn’t fight as the man led him back to the direction of the cottage, finding it easier to follow someone’s lead for the first time in a while rather than try and force himself to function on his own. It certainly required less thinking and less space for him to ponder on what he had done to get Phil and Techno killed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts nowadays were nothing but a loop of the same thing over and over, never-ending in its execution of making him feel guilty for something that a small part of his mind screamed he wasn’t responsible for. Ranboo just wasn’t buying it, and with no one to tell him otherwise, he was ready to believe it without question. Challenging things required energy he didn’t have and it was easy to give himself an excuse to leave rather than a reason to stay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo let himself float away from his consciousness as Ghostbur led him back to the cottage. He didn’t argue as the man led him into the home rather than to his shack, no energy left in him to argue with the ghost. He could vaguely see the yellow tone of the sweater he almost always wore flicker between blue and brown before settling on a navy blue colour that matched the sky as he entered the home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt himself get lowered down onto the couch slowly, the fireplace lighting up in front of him. He could feel the heat radiating from in front of him, a few feet away and lighting up the blackness behind his eyelids with red. Ranboo opened his eyes in a bleary blink, looking up and expecting to see Ghostbur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, he was greeted with Wilbur, blue jacket left on the couch as black-booted feet walked across the spruce floor, white shirt glowing orange with the lighting of the fire. Ranboo froze as he saw the man. His limbs felt heavy beyond belief and he physically couldn’t do anything but stare at him as he moved to lay down a cape over him, one that he recognized too well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his frozen state, little tears began to streak down his face. Ranboo knew he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve the kindness he had been begging for, didn’t deserve the comfort and love he lost on his own accord. The man seemed to have noticed his distress, moving down to crouch in front of him and wiping his face gently with a white sleeve, face concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t cry, songbird,” The words echoed, reminiscent of Phil’s as he uttered the words that Ranboo had heard once before, over late nights spent nursing a fever after a blizzard. He blinked once, and Wilbur was replaced with Phil, wearing the same clothing he was when Ranboo had found him. The teen still couldn’t move, despite how he wished he could scream, shout, do anything, wake himself up from this cruel dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil, or Ghostbur, or whoever was sitting in front of him didn’t take notice of his internal struggle, the man standing up and moving through the living room as though it were second nature. Ranboo watched as the Phil lookalike made his way through a chair that was usually tucked in, not acknowledging his phase through the furniture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s heart sank to his stomach at the sight, eyes widening slightly. Would Phil and Techno finally be coming back as ghosts? That would be the last thing he wanted, he didn’t want to see two ghosts that were barely a whisper of their living selves and be tormented with the guilt of knowing that he had been the one to do that to them. Ranboo didn’t think he could handle it, especially not with the plans he had that had been interrupted by Ghostbur- or Wilbur, whoever it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo looked back up as Phil came back with a book, taking a seat at the ground in front of Ranboo and leaning back on the couch that was adjacent to the couch he was laid on. Phil’s spectre looked up at him, a familiar look on his face that Ranboo recognized from somewhere but couldn’t put a place or time to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to hear a story from Techno’s book?” He asked, a soft smile on his face. Ranboo blinked, the conversation continuing as though he had answered before he could say anything in the gap of silence that had been left between them. “Don’t worry about it, he won’t notice it’s gone. I’ll tell you a secret: he memorized all the stories from this book years ago. He keeps it because it was one of the first he got signed by the author, Firebreath.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gentle tone was enough to slap him with the realization of where he knew this story from and he nearly cried the moment he figured it out. Ranboo thought back to the night about three months ago, the day he had passed out at the turtle farm in the middle of the night when he had unknowingly caught a cold and didn’t know about it. It was- Phil was reliving that night? With Ranboo, despite being dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wished he could move, talk, say anything, but it felt like he was paralyzed, limbs locked up as a murky feeling of lack-of-control fogged up his mouth and kept his eyes half-open, blinking every now and then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which story do you want to hear tonight, hm?” The ghost Phil asked, flipping through the pages of a book that looked to be made of smoke. There was a pause in the conversation before Phil laughed softly, tears springing in Ranboo’s eyes at the sound. He didn’t realize he was forgetting it until he heard it again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think Techno is the only one who could list all of them off from the top of his head. How about… Ah, this one.” Ranboo remembered which story he had chosen that time, eyes softening as his grip on the cloak tightened similarly that he had last time he had been in this position. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever heard of the story of Prometheus?” After a pause that no one filled, Phil’s spectre hummed, the sound echoey as he continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he was a titan, one who had seen Zeus gift all the Gods their own powers and special talents they could have as their own. It was seen as a glorious thing, save for the fact that Zeus didn’t care for mortals- humans, all that much,” The man clarified the last word before clearing his throat before resuming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Prometheus saw this, right? And he decided that it wasn’t fair for humans, since they were all freezing during the winters without anything to keep them warm. So, he stole fire from- forgive me if I say this wrong, I can never figure it out- He-phes-taus-es workshop and gave it to them so they would survive through the winters.” There was a pause, and a soft, fond laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he was a bit of a hero. But Zeus was upset that someone had given one of his gifts to humans, since he thought they didn’t deserve it at all, and he took Prometheus to a high mountain called the Caucasus and chained him to it, cursing an eagle to eat his liver every day for thirty years.” Phil’s face grew sympathetic, reaching out to pet Ranboo’s head comfortingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen was openly crying now, tears dripping down the bridge of his nose and onto the couch. He couldn’t stop himself sniffling, and he still couldn’t move, but he wished he could just grab onto Phil’s hand, even for a moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the end,” Phil said softly, turning to face Ranboo properly and putting the book down, his wings rattling a bit, “Hercules, his demi-god son, freed him from his unjust punishment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo snuffled silently as Phil’s hand stroked his hair, continuing a one-sided conversation from three months ago that Ranboo barely remembered. The paralysis was slowly fading from his limbs, though sleep was starting to fog his brain, despite his fight to keep himself from falling asleep before he could hug Phil, or ask for forgiveness, or anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you worry about how good you are, sometimes,” Phil murmured, this part of the conversation new to Ranboo, who looked up through half-open eyes with an intense longing burning through him that made him want to sob, “And that you get nightmares, sometimes. About what you did under Dream’s control. But it doesn’t matter, yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s eyes fluttered shut as he heard Phil’s comforting words as he drifted off into unwilling sleep, hair being brushed from his eyes. “You’re still family. You’re still Ranboo. And we don’t want to see you leaving, mate.” The sentence was punctuated with a soft sigh. “Sleep for a bit, songbird. I’ll be here when you wake up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with the press of feather-light lips against his forehead, Ranboo almost believed the man. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>you must have done something real bad, it’s nearly impossible for you to cry now. </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>twt is @far2early :] read tags for triggers!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ranboo had awoken the next day, there was a feeling of lightness that had been taken off his shoulders, as though the feelings from the night before were left far in the past. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t figure out if what had happened was a dream or not, but waking up in the cottage was a good indicator that something had happened. Ranboo didn’t know why Phil’s spectre showed up that night, nor did he know why it seemed to be stuck in the past. All he knew was with a small brush of his lips against his forehead, the negative emotions leeching at his insides were lightened enough for him to sleep a full night without waking up due to nightmares or restlessness. It was the best he had slept in ages, and he was glad that there was a bit of leeway for himself after Ranboo had passed out crying for what must have been the thirtieth time that month. </p><p> </p><p>He had taken the opportunity to steel himself to try and clean up upstairs, pushing through the task before he could let anything from the night before sink in. Ranboo had stumbled to his feet, cape still wrapped around his neck and fastened there, atop of his blue one from Phil as he cleaned, a bit of it catching under his feet nowadays. Ranboo practically ran upstairs, mouth set as he became determined to just clean out one room before he came crashing down from the high of the night before. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo was pretty sure that if he had been any more lucid during the scene, he would have cried himself into a panic attack, despite his best efforts to keep himself from making a bigger deal out of the comfort than he did. He just hadn’t wrapped his head around it yet, the fact that Phil had been in the cottage and had touched him and read to him and spoken to him as he did just a few weeks ago. A month and a half ago everything was fine and Ranboo needed to get used to the fact that Phil and Techno were gone. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure if this would make it easier or harder, with how his state of healing was going. Save for gathering up enough energy to feed his pets, he could hardly say that he was the pinnacle of healthy behaviour while grieving. More often than not, Ranboo would forgo meals in place of sleeping through his hunger, finding it easier than confronting the lack of energy that came with his near-malnutrition. He had ended up losing his appetite, anyway, so it didn’t matter all that much, in the end. </p><p> </p><p>Food felt like cardboard in his mouth and the texture made him want to throw up more often than not. The teen wished he could live off of nothing but water for the rest of his life if it meant that he wouldn’t have to feel nausea stab at him every time he got too hungry to put it off. It was always Enderchest that was pushing him to eat something, with how the cat would nudge him until he got up to grab food for him, and grabbed food for himself in the same process. The twin pair of cats were smarter than he had given them credit for. It almost made Ranboo guilty for wanting to leave them behind. </p><p> </p><p>His attempt at taking his own life the other night wasn’t bothering him as much as it probably should have, in retrospect. Ranboo had read a few dark pieces of literature in the past when going through villages far-off, fantasy stories were less common in comparison to stories of pain and suffering that were parallel to some of the places they had visited on their stops to Woodland Mansions. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo found that the people in stories would often wax poetic about their reasons for wanting to go, how heartbreak would eat at them until they felt like nothing else was left for them and how nothing would make them happier than to rest. Ranboo could relate to that aspect, though it was a more recent development than when he had first encountered the books. </p><p> </p><p>After the attempt in the book, however, there were two ways that it could go, and it was pretty easy for Ranboo to figure out just by how much of the book was left. </p><p> </p><p>Either the attempt would work and it would end on a note of the main character going to heaven the way they had always wanted, fading into the light and letting their body scatter into cherry petals the way it was rumoured people who died permanently would. Ranboo knew that was a myth now, but a lot of the more sheltered villages never figured it out, only seeing their eldest die of natural causes and dying in the case a group of pillagers attacked them. </p><p> </p><p>The second option, which always seemed to make the story more introspective than not, was when the character in question would fail and have to deal with all the family members and friends they had almost left behind, had to stew in the guilt of what they did, had to realize how important they really were and that they deserved more than what they got from the world. The thing about Ranboo, though, was that he didn’t have any family or friends waiting on him. </p><p> </p><p>He steered off the course of what a lot of books described. His decision was made in a calculated jolt of hope, he didn’t write a note, didn’t tell anyone what he was doing, didn’t even get a chance to do anything before being dragged away to a cottage by a ghost to cry some more. Ranboo was decidedly neutral about the whole situation. He felt a bit sick in the morning, of course, but that was a given with Phil’s reappearance just the night before. </p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of things that he didn’t have planned out, didn’t have support for. Ranboo didn’t know what to do now that his attempt had failed and he knew that spectres were following him. Ghostbur might have been enough to dissuade him, but knowing that Phil, whether it be a memory of him or really him, was watching him tear himself apart was a different type of uncomfortable. </p><p> </p><p>The teen always did his best to make sure that he would be seen in the best possible light in front of both Techno and Phil. It was a habit that he made sure to keep constant, in the case they got sick of him when he started to act out. It was easy enough, as Ranboo didn’t like making trouble in the first place. Instead, he was quiet and withdrawn, curling up on himself so he wouldn’t take up too much space. Six foot six already felt too big, let alone if he stretched out to his full height. It felt wrong. </p><p> </p><p>Techno and Phil had gotten sick of the behaviour eventually. Well, Techno more than Phil. The man had thrown a sword at him and told him to start sparring before going against him without a moment's hesitance, grinning wildly when Ranboo held his own against the blade that was swung at him. It certainly snapped him out of the frame of thinking that he had where he needed to be perfect in front of the duo. </p><p> </p><p>Despite this development, Ranboo still felt pressured to do well in front of the two. More often than not, his self-destructive tendencies would be hidden behind the confines of his shack, wooden walls separating him from people who he knew would stop him. He had similarly gone through a few relapses without any interference until Techno had figured out what he was doing and he was forced to come clean. To know that Phil would be able to see him, even if it was a slim chance, falling apart in such a way was something that made him more uncomfortable than he could express. </p><p> </p><p>He supposed that was what had spurred his urge to clean up the older man’s room, opening it with little pushback. It felt like opening a crypt, in a way, though he expected the door to be much heavier with how he had struggled to get the nerve to go through it in the first month and a half there. Ranboo took in a shuddering breath, pushing down all the negative feelings engulfing him as he came inside. </p><p> </p><p>The sun shone through the curtains, only just parted enough for a strip of light to go across the ground and light it up with a whitening light. It was a sunny day that day, burning Ranboo’s eyes if he looked at the sky for too long, needing to squint. It was one of those days where it could be a raging storm one day before turning into a suddenly great one. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo was reminded of a day a while ago when he had to come in early because of the rain and sleet and just how rainy it was outside. He had huddled inside the cottage for the first time that day, watching as pine trees swayed violently in the wind before getting distracted after Phil called him downstairs to clean up the chests that had gotten disorganized once more. </p><p> </p><p>When they had finished, Ranboo was surprised to hear that the wind had stopped making a battalion against their walls, looking outside to see that the storm had let up completely, the sun sparkling over the snow and leaving it shiny and new. Ranboo had been shell-shocked, Techno finding amusement in the expression as he patted his shoulder and told him it was something he would get used to. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo had gotten used to it, but it was still jarring to see just how big a change could be in a couple of days. </p><p> </p><p>He had picked up the bottles off the ground first, not bothering to bring them downstairs as he aimed for speed rather than the quality of cleaning. Ranboo threw them in a small trash can in the corner of the room, piling other bits of trash and wrappers in it afterwards. He fixed the sheets that had been tugged around, folding the blanket that was piled on the ground. Ranboo made careful consideration not to bring it up to his nose and smell it in the case that he would end up breaking down crying as he did with Techno’s cape. </p><p> </p><p>Which was still wrapped around his neck, Ranboo reminded himself, shuddering before continuing his rapid cleaning. </p><p> </p><p>He straightened out shelves and swept away broken things, put letters that he refused to read in a neat pile on the desk in the corner by the window, opening the curtains wider. Phil liked to have the sun warm his feathers before he started a strenuous day, resting on his knees with his back to the window. It was something close to the feeling preening gave him, Phil explained one day, Ranboo having asked at the time. Techno was often the one to help Phil with the feathers on his back that he couldn’t reach. Ranboo was never offended by Phil never asking him to help with it. It was something very personal, as far as he could gather. Nothing that he would trust someone he only knew for a year, no matter how close they got. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo assumed it was a hybrid thing, like how he had been reluctant to make eye contact with anyone no matter how long he had known them and how comfortable he was around them. It was something ingrained in him, and Techno and Phil’s relationship as friends was one that Ranboo admired rather than be jealous of. </p><p> </p><p>The teen tore his eyes away from the window, eyes half-open as he grabbed a broom and swept away bits of broken glass and ripped up papers. Ranboo didn’t take the time to remember what the potions had been for, stubbornly ignoring the bit of his memory that begged him to remember every little detail about why looking at this room was so painful. </p><p> </p><p>He paused as he finally finished his frantic cleaning about half-an-hour later, stopping at the door as he looked in to sweep his eyes over what he had cleaned. The room looked normal, neat and kept as Phil usually made it a habit to clean up his space. Ranboo looked at the bed, blankets and sheets neat and tidy, the desk in the back left corner by the window, neat with little paper cranes sitting on top of it. He looked at the floor, clean and spotless, feet curling into the shaggy wool blanket on the ground. Looked at the tools left hanging on the wall on the spots they were meant to be in before being knocked off. </p><p> </p><p>It looked clean. Nice. As though nothing bad had happened there. As though Phil would come in and sit on his bed, reading books and drinking coffee after a long day with the lamp of his bedside table on with yellow light illuminating the darkroom in the evening. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo swallowed harshly, turning and shutting the door behind him, back pressed against it as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he exhaled through his mouth slowly. He shook his head, wiping his face before he made his way to the next room on the right, walking down the hallway as though it were the way to death row. </p><p> </p><p>He stopped in front of the wooden door, resting his forehead against the door as his eyes caught on the silver doorknob, shiny yet rusting ever-so-slightly. Little tinges or bronze decorated the metal in a way that made it look weathered yet refined, something very close to Techno’s own demeanour. After a quick movement, the door to his room opened, getting caught on the dresser as Ranboo squeezed his way in anyway. </p><p> </p><p>It was a different thing, stepping into Techno’s room. Ranboo never became intimately acquainted with the area in his time there, so stepping in felt like breaking a rule in and of itself. The one time he was let inside, however, it was something quiet and close and comfortable that he didn’t think could ever be replicated. </p><p> </p><p>The man had invited him in after a long windy day, where his hair was left untied and out in the wind at about waist-level, whipping around his face as a result. Ranboo was invited in after he had spent a bit too long downstairs, on one of his off weeks where he was struggling with a relapse of his previous negative thoughts. Techno must have picked up on it, practically dragging the teen into his room. </p><p> </p><p>It was lit by candles, that was something that Ranboo remembered. He had enjoyed the ambiance the room had, smelling like pine and firewood and vanilla because of the candles and the maker who lived in a village over sneaking a couple of scented ones into the mix. Ranboo remembered the room being naturally messy, which surprised him a bit, but he made his way to the bed that Techno was sitting at the edge of. The man was brushing out his hair after throwing it over one shoulder, long pink strands being detangled. </p><p> </p><p>It was to Ranboo’s surprise that Techno turned, sitting cross-legged after bringing his legs up to the bed, carefully moving his sheet of hair to his back and letting it face Ranboo. The teen stood, confused at the time before Techno had spoken up. </p><p> </p><p>(<em> “You know how to braid hair, yes?” Techno had asked, voice a familiar monotone. Ranboo nodded, shaking fingers holding each other tightly in an attempt to keep them from trembling too much. Ranboo realized that he couldn’t see him, flushing before answering aloud.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yeah, yeah, I used to, uh… braid Niki’s, when I first got here.” Techno hummed at the answer, reaching for a book on his bedside table and opening it in his lap as he began to read.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Braid mine for me, student,” The tone of his voice was teasing, making a light jab at the sensei joke that had been upcoming the past couple of weeks. Ranboo had remembered them making it early on when he hadn’t quite gained their trust, but this was a bit different, in a way. He couldn’t explain it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I… Okay,” Ranboo answered, carefully gathering the hair in his hands before splitting it into three separate strands, muscle memory kicking in as his shaking fingers moved deftly. He silently appreciated the fact that Techno felt comfortable enough with him to let the teen have open access to his back where he could easily do harm, trusting him to just fix up his hair.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> His anxiousness had whittled down into a low buzz by the time he was done with Techno’s hair, Ranboo not noticing the satisfaction that came with the sight of his steady hands and clear face. </em>) </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo had one good memory in Techno’s room and only one in general. As his eyes flicked over the room, he felt his heart sink in his chest slowly, biting his lip in an attempt to ground himself. His teeth bit into his bottom lip until he had tasted blood, warmth climbing over his teeth and making its way down his chin. </p><p> </p><p>His previous bravado while cleaning Phil’s room was gone, able to keep himself disconnected from his memory as he made his way through the room. Techno was someone that he valued the opinion of, and saw as a mentor just as much as he saw family. Not to say that Phil was less important, but… Some things were just different with different people and Ranboo didn’t know how to deal with the pit in his stomach as he looked over the torn-up room. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo’s eyes settled on the dresser, moving to hoist it up and push it up against the wall once more, finding it easy. Once it was slotted in place, it seemed much less daunting to clean it up than it had previously occurred to him. Ranboo moved to pick up the tools on the ground, finding similar nails in the wall for him to hang them upon. The magic that radiated from the enchantments gave off a certain essence of Techno that was slowly dying out that made him want to scream, but he resisted the urge, blinking hard as he mechanically made his way through the things. </p><p> </p><p>His hands brushed over yellowing parchment, picking it up and rolling it into scrolls before putting it in a drawer by his bed, closing it before he could look over any of them by accident. Techno deserved privacy in death, deserved some respect instead of it disappearing with him when he died. Ranboo didn’t spare them a glance, fixing up the blanket on the bed and pretending it wasn’t as ripped as it was. </p><p> </p><p>The teen moved to fix over something else, tripping over his feet as the red cape got caught on something and a tearing sound echoed through the room, louder than anything he had ever thought he heard in his life. </p><p> </p><p>Nothing else registered for Ranboo as adrenaline flooded his system, looking behind him in something akin to horror before scrambling to take a closer look at the cape. His eyes poured over the edge, finding a large rip near the bottom that stretched at least ten centimetres long. He almost sobbed at the sight of it, hands curling into it gently as his vision blurred. </p><p> </p><p>“One thing,” He said shakily, his voice a whisper, “One thing of Techno’s and I- I couldn’t just-” </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo cut himself off, taking a deep breath as he looked up from the fabric, refusing to let tears fall down his face as he carefully folded it on the bed. His hands shook wildly, the teen trying not to let it affect his actions. </p><p> </p><p>“I can fix it, I can fix it. I just need. Need a sewing kit. And someone who can sew. Maybe back by Eret’s, yeah, I can- I can fix this, I can be useful.” Ranboo rambled aloud, making his way downstairs as he held the cape to his chest, not daring to let his grip loosen or even use one hand in case it fell into the snow or lava while he was travelling. </p><p> </p><p>His mind was moving a mile per minute, not registering the passage of time as he made his way to the Nether portal, not pausing as he made his way past the foreboding pine forest on the way there. Ranboo waited for the velvety folds of the portal to grab at his limbs before being dragged into the Nether, running through it to make his way to the hub. The longer he left the cape torn was more anxious energy building up in his chest. It was starting to hurt, breathing beginning to get difficult as he attempted to catch his breath after running. </p><p> </p><p>Tears were blurring his vision ever-so-slightly, not enough for him to notice but enough for his vision to be bleary and problematic in what he was trying to do. Ranboo just needed someone to help, someone to fix the last thing he had of Techno that still smelt like him and held his essence in a way that didn’t make him want to cry. </p><p> </p><p>He stood in the portal in the Nether hub, waiting anxiously to get pulled through to the Community House. Ranboo could feel a pit growing in his stomach, feeling like he was going to throw up if he didn’t get away from the growing heat of the underground. After a moment, he was tugged through the fabric of space and landed on the Blackstone, cobblestone, and assorted textures under his feet. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo didn’t take notice of anyone around him, making his way through to get to the Community House. He knocked shoulders with someone as his hearing turned into something murky and akin to being underwater. Ranboo was yanked back by the arm, a low yelp escaping his mouth as he did, though he didn’t see who grabbed at him until he was face to face with Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t seen Tommy since the funeral, and the guilt that he had felt for making the teen break down was enough for him not to reach out in the trying times that had been in. It felt like pushing at a playing card tower and hoping it wouldn’t fall. The anger had been enough for him to realize that the last thing Tommy wanted to see was him alive and well, so the fear that jolted through him after Tommy bumped into him was enough for him to start shaking slightly.</p><p> </p><p>The teen was saying something, word murky as he seemed to find someone to speak to, the words filtering in and out of Ranboo’s ears until his vision tunnelled on the cape in his hands once more. Ranboo’s eyes widened slightly, remembering why he had come to the mainland in the first place, speaking up past him as his hands trembled. </p><p> </p><p>“I- Do you know where- Where, um, Niki is? Or, do you know how to sew, I… I just need someone to…” His voice trailed off, mouth hung open slightly as he looked back up to Tommy, a hand on his shoulder as the teen looked at him with something close to concern. He led him over to the inside of the Community House, not trying to pry Ranboo’s grip off of the cape and not scolding him or yelling the way Ranboo expected him to. </p><p> </p><p>The anger was certainly deserved. He murdered Techno and Phil. He killed Tommy’s family. </p><p> </p><p>The thought made him tear up, so he forced back tears and let his mind wander as he floated away from the real world. The only thing that kept him tethered to the real world just by the fabric of Techno’s cape, thick and warm and close to his chest as he hugged it to him. Ranboo had been left alone by Tommy to sit on the bottom floor of the Community House, legs curled up to his chest as he squeezed himself into a space between a furnace and a chest. The teen didn’t want to be seen, be heard, or touched, or anything. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo wished he was just a dandelion seed, floating away and out of the world that he was living in now, finding comfort in the stars that would keep him warmer than he would ever be again on Earth.</p><p> </p><p>The teen didn’t let his mind clear as he heard muffled words growing closer, letting his unfocused eyes wander over blobs of terrain in front of him while his mind slowed to a halt. Ranboo barely even noticed that Tommy had returned with help before he felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder, jolting intensely and flinching back into the wall at the touch. </p><p> </p><p>As he looked up, he was greeted with Tubbo, dressed in the coats of Snowchester with red cheeks and a redder nose. He looked worried and a bit tired, as though he had rushed to come back as soon as he could. Ranboo didn’t understand until he looked out the window of the House and saw that the sun was considerably higher up in the sky than before. His heart sank as he realized he had something else close to an episode as he floated into his thoughts, finally tuning into Tubbo’s words as he crouched down in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“-ere’ve you been the past couple of weeks, man, we couldn’t catch you after the funeral?” He asked, his eyes softened with concern as Ranboo blinked up at him. He didn’t understand why Tubbo would be worried about him, let alone Tommy becoming worried enough to bring Tubbo to help. </p><p> </p><p>“... Been at home. Tundra.” The answer did little to halt any of the teen’s concerns, instead opting to make his eyes turn sad as he placed a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, the hybrid curling his knees closer to his chest as he hugged the cape to himself. </p><p> </p><p>“You lived with Techno and Phil, yeah? Right by their cottage?” Ranboo nodded blankly, hearing a sharp intake of air from behind Tubbo as the teen kept his eyes on the hybrid. His thumb was rubbing circles into his shoulder through his sweater, trying to comfort and keep him grounded in the same movement. </p><p> </p><p>“Must’ve been hard. I’m sorry,” Tubbo apologized softly, acting as though Ranboo was some baby who needed to be spoken to like he was an idiot. The teen almost despised him for it, eyes narrowing a bit as he tipped his head to the side a bit, shaking it in as a negative. </p><p> </p><p>“Shouldn’t be. ‘S my fault.” The words came out slightly slurred, voice raspy from disuse and the screaming match from the night before. He had forgotten that happened until he had spoken and suddenly little tears were building up in the corners of his eyes as he blinked back tears that were begging to fall. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo could feel the teen freeze a bit, grip on his shoulder tightening a bit. He didn’t protest, just hoping that he would either kill him or leave him alone to freeze to death overnight. </p><p> </p><p>“What d’you mean?” Tubbo’s voice was more reproachful now, careful as he spoke to the teen. Ranboo didn’t know where the sudden hesitance came from, wetting his lips as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, hands shaking as he rubbed his thumbs over the fabric of Techno’s cape. </p><p> </p><p>“Is my fault, isn’t it? Was with them for a year. Should’ve known about… ‘Bout the egg. Or stopped them. Should’ve made sure Techno didn’t kill himself or that I could get the lid of the healing pot or that I didn’t touch Phil’s blood before I tried so my hands wouldn’t… wouldn’t slip. Should’ve been faster, or known better, or… I dunno. It’s my fault.” </p><p> </p><p>The words were dead and yet they held more weight than Ranboo could have ever anticipated. It made Tubbo shiver and Tommy take a couple of steps back and all Ranboo could do was stare at the ceiling and close his eyes. Close his eyes and hope that they would leave him alone or help him get someone who could fix Techno’s cape before he forgot and never remembered again. </p><p> </p><p>“Can you help me fix his… His cape. I, um. Tore it. A bit,” Ranboo broke the silence, looking down at the fabric held in his hands and holding it up to Tubbo to look at the tear. The teen in question took a shaky breath, as though he was mourning something before looking up at Ranboo and smiling weakly, nodding in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>The teen stumbled to his feet as Tubbo drew back, still holding his hands out in case he would need to steady the hybrid. Ranboo ignored the hands, simply walking out of the Community House after Tommy abruptly started walking, Tubbo following shortly after. He didn’t expect much conversation from the two of them, and he was right, the walk silent as they made their way down the winding streets of the mainland. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo didn’t even notice he was slipping back into his state of tuning everyone out until Tubbo tapped on his elbow gently, drawing his attention right before he had faded from reality. The teen looked at him, questioning before he saw that they had arrived where they had been looking for in the first place. His chest ached a bit as he looked up to take in the small cottage they had arrived at rather quickly. </p><p> </p><p>It was made of wood, lined with cobble at the bottom and had a roof of brick that made it look nice when compared to the pale birch that made up the walls. The windows were glass and had curtains in front of them, and the small porch had space for a two-person table, though there was only one chair. Ranboo assumed it was Tommy’s home from the STAY OUT that had been graffitied on the door in bright red spray paint. </p><p> </p><p>It brought a hint of a smile onto his face, remembering how he used to vandalize the posters around the SMP before remembering what the posters were and feeling even worse a moment afterwards. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo led him inside as Tommy unlocked the door, stepping in and turning on the lights. Ranboo slipped off his shoes once they were inside, not wanting to be rude as the other two did the same. He had to do it without hands, though, which made him look a bit dumb. Ranboo was fine with that, not wanting to let go of the cape that he had carried over from so far. He wasn’t sure who would end up fixing it in the first place, but he was tired and he had spent half the day in his head and didn’t want to think all that much anymore. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo had taken off his jacket, revealing another hoodie under it that was a warm gold colour. It was the exact opposite of Ranboo’s black, plain one, worn and stained with water that had dried and disappeared into the dark folds. Tommy simply went upstairs as Tubbo led him to the living room, opening the curtains to let in some of the natural sunlight. It was about four in the afternoon, leaving quite a bit of time before the sun would go and take its light along with it. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo thought that it might have been a metaphor for something. He was too tired to figure out what for. </p><p> </p><p>He startled as Tommy came back downstairs, holding a tin and sitting at the coffee table in front of the couch that Tubbo and Ranboo sat down at. He looked up at Ranboo, the teen feeling a bit uncomfortable before the blond cleared his throat and held a hand out. </p><p> </p><p>“I can fix it,” He said bluntly, words clunky in his mouth. “Just- Let me see it.” Ranboo nodded, not arguing as he handed it over, though his hands shook ever-so-slightly. Tommy didn’t comment on it, nor did Tubbo. He simply took the chance to take Ranboo’s hand in both of his at the moment it was empty. The touch didn’t feel like ants crawling in his skin, the way they had before, so Ranboo didn’t take his hand away from Tubbo. </p><p> </p><p>The three of them sat in silence, Tommy carefully going over the tear in the cape as he looked for a shade of red that would blend in with the rest of the fabric. Tubbo traced shapes into Ranboo’s skin as he looked between the two of them, Ranboo sitting with his eyes half-open and unfocused as he stared at nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“So, uh,” Tubbo broke up the silence. “How’ve you… what’ve you been up to the past month or so, Ranboo?” He cringed a bit after the question, as though regretting it before Ranboo sat up a smidge higher. </p><p> </p><p>“Um,” He answered, his free hand rubbing up and down on his thigh as his claws hooked into the fabric of his dark sweatpants. “Been at my shack. Taking care of my pets. Huskies, too, uh. There’s a… A lot. Made a farm. Um… Nothing else, really.” </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo hummed at the answer, Ranboo nodding slowly in response. He didn’t think all that much as his mind wandered to the past couple of days, opening his mouth before he could process the words that had moved unfiltered from his mind to the ears of the other two. </p><p> </p><p>“I tried to kill myself yesterday,” He said, just as Tubbo’s mouth opened to reply, a forced smile on his lips that fell almost immediately after he heard what Ranboo said. Tommy paused in his sewing at the same time, hands loosening on the needle and string he had been trying to thread for the past five minutes. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck,” Tommy said bluntly, voice edging on hysteric as Ranboo flinched back a bit, leaning into the back of the couch as he blinked once, still comfortably numb to what had happened the other day. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I dunno why I said that I- Fuck,” He said, cursing himself after his lapse of judgement, not saying much as he stared at his hands. Ranboo didn’t want to make eye contact, didn’t want to know what Tommy would say about his cowardice, didn’t want to hear Tubbo tell him how he was deflecting responsibility the way he did back in L’manberg as a cabinet member. </p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, none of that came. No shouting, no scolding, no screaming and blaming him and anger. All he got was Tubbo near-tackling him in a hug as he froze up at the contact. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo was so <em> warm. </em>So warm in comparison to the guilt that would leave him freezing cold, to the tundra that had been lonelier than he had ever imagined. So warm in comparison to the pain that engulfed him and the feeling of wanting to die that left him with a cold pit in his stomach that made him feel like everything he did was hopeless. Ranboo didn’t know how to react, didn’t know what to do when he was getting so suddenly assaulted by something he didn’t know he needed as badly as he did before now. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck. I- Ranboo, what the- Why? Are you okay? What do- what the hell, I didn’t-” Tommy stumbled over his words as Ranboo hesitantly shifted back after Tubbo released him, the teen squeezing his hands in a death grip that almost made him regret speaking up. All he could feel was warmth and heat and an uncomfortable burning in his chest as he tried to make out what the feeling he had was. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, I…” Ranboo trailed off, eyes stinging as he leaned forward, pulling his hand away from Tubbo as tears started to build up. He didn’t know why he was so suddenly emotional, why he had suddenly realized the weight of what he said. Ranboo didn’t understand why it was so hard for him to speak, forcing the words out of his mouth before he could even try and stop himself from letting a few of his thoughts through. He wanted to let himself be vulnerable so bad and this was the only place he could even consider it because he knew that they would tell him the truth. </p><p> </p><p>“I was tired,” He choked out, a lump in his throat biting at the words before he tried to force them out. “And I wanted- <em> Fuck. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>His words turned to a near whine as his voice broke on ‘wanted,’ letting a little string of tears leak down his cheeks before he could stop them. Ranboo leaned forward and buried his face in his forearms, resting on his knees as he wiped at his face uselessly. He didn’t try to speak again, shaking his head as his hair was pressed against his forehead after he took a shuddering breath in. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo could practically feel Tubbo’s hesitance from next to him, the teen patting his back gently as he stayed knelt over. His eyes were screwed shut as he forced himself not to cry, knowing that if he got anywhere close to sobbing, he wouldn’t be able to stop it for a long, long time. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t... “ Ranboo tried to speak up again, sitting up and wiping his face with the sleeve of his sweater so his skin wouldn’t be more burnt as a result. The teen felt Tubbo’s and Tommy’s eyes burning into his face, blinking a bit self-consciously before he continued. The mix of emotions and thoughts was making it hard for him to communicate them properly. </p><p> </p><p>“I think it… I didn’t see what happened to come. And I never thought that… I didn’t think. So I think I just decided that I didn’t want to deal with it. Everything.” Ranboo shook his head and let the hair fall into his face as he avoided Tubbo’s and Tommy’s eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Everything?” Tommy questioned. His voice was much softer than Ranboo had ever heard it. The bit of awkwardness lilting his tone was understandable enough. Ranboo didn’t know what he would do if he was ever in the same situation as Tommy or Tubbo. It was selfish of him to even consider dumping his feelings on them, let alone go through with him. It made him feel terrible, but he was in too deep to consider backing out of the conversation. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s been… weird. Since Phil and Techno just-” His throat closed up after he brought up their names, pushing past it as he continued speaking. “I was alone, all of a sudden. And I didn’t- I was barely living, I think. I couldn’t sleep sometimes and I slept too much some other times and everything was just dull and bad and nothing and I didn’t want to be by myself forever- So I thought if I- I dunno. I didn’t want to be alone.” </p><p> </p><p>The silence after he spoke was unnerving, making him twist his hands together in his lap, curling back into his hoodie and hiding the bottom half of his face in the sweater. The teen didn’t want to look at them, or see their reactions, or hear them chew him out. He didn’t know what he would do if they were angry at him. He knew even less of what to do if they were understanding. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Tommy spoke up, voice low as he did, despite the guilt that had leaked into his tone. Ranboo looked at him tiredly, a bit confused at the words from the teen. He had no reason to be sorry, there was so little that he had done, save for exposing Ranboo to the truth of his role in the excursion. </p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have blamed you. At the funeral. That was shitty of me and… I’m sorry,” Tommy continued, the apology very close to something that Tommy usually would say. Ranboo blinked at the words, staring at him blankly as he let the words roll in his head. </p><p> </p><p>“But you were right,” He answered simply, genuine confusion colouring his voice. Tommy looked a bit sick, and Tubbo had taken to squeezing one of Ranboo’s hands once more. </p><p> </p><p>“You can’t- You can’t really think that?” Tommy asked, almost desperately as he grew more distraught at the thought of just how far Ranboo’s self-hatred must have been spiralling. Ranboo shrugged in response, looking down at his feet as though they were the most interesting thing in the room. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Tommy breathed out, drawing a bark of a laugh from Ranboo that melted away a bit of the tension from the room, the teen letting it echo as Tubbo giggled a bit nervously, leaning on his shoulder. Tommy couldn’t hide a bit of a smile tugging up on the corner of his lips, though he didn’t say much else after the laughter died away. </p><p> </p><p>“You can stay the night if you want?” Tubbo offered after a beat of silence, the effect of the volume being put back into the world hitting him as Tommy slowly continued his work on the cape, threading the string through the eye of the needle. Ranboo contemplated the offer for a moment, conflicted. </p><p> </p><p>He had left his pets with more than enough food for the day, and he had fed the huskies the night before. Ranboo blocked out the reason why, but he knew they would be fine for at least one night away. He thought back to his shack and bile built up in his throat, so he nodded as a response and sat back to lean on the couch. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” He answered, voice lighter than when he had first come there. “But I’ll have to leave in the morning.” </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo mirrored his nod, relieved. “Alright,” He replied, and that was that. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>avoid your friends for weeks even though they’re the only sense of consistency you have left in your life. if they really wanted to see you, they’d come, but they won’t. (who cares?) </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Ranboo stared up at the ceiling of the living room, eyes wide open despite how dark it had gotten outside. </p><p> </p><p>It had been a long day. It was a hazy one and it was one he hadn’t expected to go the way it did. The last thing he expected to do was confess his darkest thoughts to Tommy and Tubbo the way he did, let alone laugh them off a moment later. Ranboo didn’t know how to process the past few hours, nor did he know what to do with the cape he held in his hands tightly, now fixed. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy had done great when it came to mending the tear, Ranboo thought, thumbing over the stitched-up part of the red material that he held in his hands. The look the teen had when he had been fixing it up had been tender and vulnerable when he thought no one was looking, taking careful consideration not to be too harsh with the fabric. Ranboo was pretty sure that he had pressed his face into it as well, though he hadn’t been paying attention enough for it to register. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo had remembered that Techno was Tommy’s brother long before he knew them. He remembered the pain that Techno carried with him after Tommy’s betrayal and the sadness and anguish he had seen from Tommy the day of the funeral. Ranboo didn’t know what he was doing with the cape that was so obviously meant for him. </p><p> </p><p>A small part of him wanted to be selfish and keep it for himself, not let anyone else get to it. He didn’t want to share, didn’t want to give it away when it was another piece of Techno to hang onto, another piece of his family that he never wanted anyone to touch under any circumstances. An ugly part of him wanted to bite at Tommy for touching it in the first place, and Ranboo had quickly pushed it down in favour of getting rid of the feeling of shame that followed it. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t quite sure what his mind was doing at the moment. It was strange, trying to get an insight on himself when he was feeling so much that it was hard to pin it down on anything. Just a couple of hours ago he had been smiling and laughing just the slightest bit with Tubbo and Tommy, and now he felt the same sense of existentialism he had when he had first stumbled into the Community House. </p><p> </p><p>It was like the feeling of deja vu enveloping him and making him relive the same moment countless times, Ranboo closing his eyes and remembering back to a time just like this. He blinked his eyes open and the memory disappeared, leaving him frowning up into the wooden rafters of the home he was sitting in. The teen sat up after a small huff, giving up on sleep for the time being after he shifted on his spot on the couch once more. </p><p> </p><p>He peeked to see the outside world through a bit of exposed space in the window, finding little glowing lights in the far distance and stars poking out from the velvet black folds of space. It looked peaceful. Ranboo wanted nothing more than to make his peace with the universe and go to sleep for good. </p><p> </p><p>Unconsciously, his hands tightened on the cape he held in his grasp. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo sat up more, kicking the blanket off of his feet childishly before he got up and made his way to the front door. The house was so silent that he could feel the dead air in his lungs. It made him feel a bit eerie, but at the same time, it was slow and made him feel more lucid than he had been in a very, very long time. </p><p> </p><p>As the hybrid slowly opened the door, he stepped outside into the cold of the night, a chill spreading up his skin as he closed the door behind him quickly and quietly. The teen did his best to stay quiet, not wanting to wake up the two friends who slept above him on the second floor. He was pretty sure that they were asleep, and as far as he was aware, that was a rarity for the both of them and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin it for them. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo moved to lean forward on the porch, arms pressed against the bannister as he let his gaze wander up to the stars and made little patterns out of the dots that splattered across the canvas of the universe. It was peaceful, and he found himself getting lost in thought as he stared up at the endless amounts of space that was up above him. </p><p> </p><p>He wondered, if just for a moment if any of the stars he saw were Techno and Phil. It was a silly thought for him to have; he knew how stars worked, he knew how death and souls and the afterlife worked. It just made him a bit happier to think that he was still with them on the physical plane, even if they were billions and billions of light-years away. The feeling of having Techno and Phil’s protection always felt surreal to him, even in the more recent months of him being with them. </p><p> </p><p>The teen wanted nothing more than to feel Phil’s wings around his shoulders or Techno’s hand on his back the way they would do when he had done well enough in a skirmish with mobs to gain a bit of praise. Techno always had a certain tone of voice when he complimented him in a genuine way that made it addictive, pushing Ranboo to do better every time he sparred with the man. </p><p> </p><p>It was something that he had already forgotten the sound of, and it made him more upset than he let on. His memory was a curse, but it was an even bigger one when confronted with an issue like this. How was he supposed to remember Phil’s calm and gentle nature when all the instances of his kindness were fogged up and felt like looking through a cloudy, tinted window? How was he supposed to hold Techno’s genuine and heartfelt moments close to him when they were always just at the tips of his fingers, just barely out of reach? </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo was bitter about it, of course, he was. He had been much more memorable just a few weeks ago, he was doing great with his memory. He had remembered so much about his year with the pair that it was enough to fill journals upon journals of stories of their adventures. The funeral had knocked all of that away, as had the previous night he had spent in the cottage. All he had a solid grasp on was the one-sided conversation that he had experienced the day before and made itself a small place in his mind he knew wouldn’t be shaken for a while. </p><p> </p><p>It was mostly just the unfairness of it all, Ranboo thought. He hated that he had so little to work with when it came to people that he cared so much about. </p><p> </p><p>The teen startled as the door behind him swung open, turning his head to see Tommy in his pyjamas, wide awake the same way he was. They both tensed up before relaxing afterwards, the instinct automatic after how long the pair of them had been on the server. Ranboo didn’t feel like speaking, letting Tommy walk over to his side and lean on the bannister of the porch the same way that he was. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t uncomfortable as he thought it might get, Ranboo could admit. He kept his gaze to the stars as Tommy did the same, though the blond teen fiddled with his hands as he did so. Ranboo had cupped his elbows in his hands, squeezing every now and then to remind himself not to slip away from his mind at the moment. This was something that he wanted to remember. </p><p> </p><p>“D’you know any of the constellations?” Tommy asked after a moment. His voice was loud in the silence but it was softer than Ranboo had remembered coming from the teen. Ranboo tilted his head a bit to face him, looking away after realizing he wasn’t in the best place for eye contact. </p><p> </p><p>“No, not really,” Ranboo answered after a beat, clearing his throat a bit afterwards. Tommy nodded in his peripheral vision, ‘ahh’ing quietly. </p><p> </p><p>“I remember that… Phil tried to teach me a couple. Told me it would help with travelling and shit.” A bitter smile crawled up Tommy’s face, picking at the palm of his hand with something of a fervour. “I was a little shit, though. I hated sitting still and staring at papers and crap like that. Ended up forgetting a lot of them.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” Ranboo answered, unsure what to say. He felt as though he had been overstepping his boundaries just by listening to the story. Tommy had been much, much closer to the pair that he had ever been, and he seemed fine in comparison to Ranboo. It made him feel like a fake like he was overreacting over something that was never meant to affect him in the first place. </p><p> </p><p>“Y’know, it’s okay to feel guilty about it,” Tommy said suddenly, catching Ranboo off-guard. He looked at his hands as Tommy continued speaking, voice unwavering as he spoke. </p><p> </p><p>“I know I blamed myself for a while when Wilbur had died about two years ago. I don’t think you were really here for it, but it was a whole fuckfest that just kept getting worse and worse till everything blew up in our faces.” The teen laughed quietly at the end, looking over to Ranboo as the hybrid kept his eyes away from making direct contact. </p><p> </p><p>“What matters is like… eventually learning that it wasn’t your fault, even if guilt’s fucking you up right now. It took me a while to realize it myself, I think. ‘S been a while and I still thought it was my fault till recently. Funnily enough, it was Phil who convinced me of it.” Ranboo took in a slow breath at the mention of the man’s name. </p><p> </p><p>“He had been the one to kill Wil, did you know that? Or at least, do it for him. He’d been torn up about it for ages, fucking hated himself for it. I’m not gonna lie to you, Ran-<em> bo, </em>I blamed him for a long time, too. But we fucking… did that touchy-feely shit. Y’know the type that Phil does, he used to try it with me like every two weeks before all this.” Tommy paused in his words as he tapped his hands against the bannister, seemingly looking for words to best put across his point. </p><p> </p><p>“We had a long, long talk. Realized that Wil would’ve killed himself no matter what happened that day. He was long gone, and he’d accepted that a long time before we ever considered it.” The words stabbed at Ranboo’s heart with something sharp that made him ache. </p><p> </p><p>“What I’m trying to say, I think is that like-” Tommy took a frustrated breath, trying to convey his point. “Whatever happened to Techno was going to happen eventually. I know how the Egg works, I think. And it was so far back that no matter what happened, it would’ve grabbed at him anyway. And none of those injuries would’ve been enough to save with a Totem or a Golden Apple or healing pots or anything. There was just nothing that could’ve fucking helped, y’know?” </p><p> </p><p>“I think I fucked you up a bit,” Tommy said conversationally, Ranboo laughing a bit at the words. Tommy looked at him, surprised before he smiled himself, continuing his monologue. </p><p> </p><p>“I was angry at the funeral. I think I was probably the only angry one. And angriest I’ve ever been in my life, save for when I found out Wilbur never had one. It was… I don’t like what I did that day all that much. Shouldn’t have blamed you for it, ‘cause I knew how fucking devastated I was when Quackity blamed me for what happened with Wilbur just a year after everything had happened, let alone a couple weeks.” </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo’s head spun slightly as he thought about how genuine Tommy was being with him. It was alien to him, but the honesty of the words was refreshing, as was the conversation. It had been a long time since he had heard someone else’s voice and was able to reply in a way that mattered. </p><p> </p><p>“I forgive you, I think. I think I did a while ago,” He answered finally, mouth dry as he scratched at his arms, absently pulling a sleeve up as he let his fingernails graze over healed scars, months old yet still prominent as ever. Tommy nodded as a reply, not saying much. </p><p> </p><p>“I feel like I shouldn’t be as sad as I am over this,” Ranboo confessed, feeling oddly vulnerable with Tommy. “Not because they didn’t matter, but, like. I didn’t matter to them as much as they did to other people. I feel like a year is too little to be sad about it but I don’t know how to… How to explain that they were the only- only family-like thing for me. Y’know?” </p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, Tommy nodded in agreement, rather than saying something along the lines of how he was right like he expected. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s a bit stupid to base it off of time, isn’t it?” He said simply, shrugging a bit. “If we all did it like that then I wouldn’t be able to say that Sam’s a little bit like family to me. Only been a year for us, too, but he’s a lot closer than I would expect him to be. Still means I can be sad about him if he off-ed himself on a construction car or some shit.” </p><p> </p><p>The vision of it in his mind made Ranboo snort a bit, drawing a similar, dry cackle from Tommy. It lifted the melancholy air a bit, and Ranboo felt a bit more comfortable after the long conversation he had with Tommy. It felt like an invisible weight being lifted off his shoulders after being there for so long that he had never even noticed when it had been added on in the first place. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo let the silence between them stand for a few minutes before he spoke up himself, raising an arm as he gestured uselessly. </p><p> </p><p>“I, uh, I don’t remember who told me this, ‘cause- you know, but, I remember that they told me that the brightest star in the sky was the North star, and, like. You see that smaller star? Kinda sticks out but it’s still pretty small compared to the North one?” Ranboo pointed to the star in question, waiting for Tommy to nod in agreement before continuing. </p><p> </p><p>“I think it was my mom who told me that, like, if you travel to that star, or go right past them, then eventually you’ll reach this, like, Utopia. Where all the souls go to rest after long hard lives and they get the chance to wait for everyone else to join them.” Ranboo’s voice had gone soft during his story, faint and nostalgic as he stared up into the sky, eyes slightly sore. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s a nice story,” Tommy answered him, quiet. Ranboo nodded in response. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” The two stayed silent as their gazes dragged over the inky black night sky, neither speaking as they let moonlight wash their skin and the cool breeze warm their burning lungs. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Of course, that one conversation didn’t fix everything in an instant. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo had gone home the next morning, as he said he would. Tubbo had made him promise to visit Snowchester at least twice a week, as well as promising himself that he would message at least twice a day and that he wanted to talk to Ranboo more. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t help but feel like it had been a desperate ploy out of pity to keep him from killing himself rather than being genuine, but he didn’t do much to combat the thought. It was easier to just let things happen and go along with them rather than try to argue and carve out his own path in whatever story had been commencing. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy had given him a hug before he had left. It was awkward and a bit uncomfortable and he smelt distinctly like oak wood and wood chips but the hybrid had hugged back and held onto the affection with as much willpower as he could put into it, not wanting to forget the feeling. Tommy hadn’t made fun of him for it, instead deciding to pat him on the shoulder afterwards. </p><p> </p><p>Neither of them brought up the conversation from the night before. It had turned into a longer discussion after Ranboo had told his story, stretching for another hour before Tommy had decided he was too sleepy to keep talking. Ranboo remembered every word of the conversation, committing them to memory as something happy and calming so he wouldn’t forget. It certainly worked for other things over the past year. </p><p> </p><p>The teen felt guilty for excluding Tubbo for a moment before realizing it was probably on purpose. Tubbo had a rough history with the pair of them, so it’d be best not to discuss in front of him, in-depth how they missed the people who had blown up his home and the warrior that had killed him for the second time in a way that mattered. It was something of an afterthought but it was certainly one that made sense. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo and Tommy had both gotten up to bid him goodbye, the teen about to leave before he went back inside, telling the pair that he needed to grab something he forgot. After a nod of confirmation, he went inside and beelined for the cape sitting on the coffee table. Ranboo picked it up gently, not wanting his claws to rip into it. </p><p> </p><p>Before Ranboo had left, he carefully folded up the red cape that he needed fixed and looked at it as Tommy and Tubbo waited on the porch for him to gather his things. He paused, a thumb rubbing over the material as he looked up through the crack of open-air in the front door, looking back down at the cape. He buried his face in it, inhaling quietly. </p><p> </p><p>He could still smell pinewood off of the white fur, hair tickling his nose in a way that made him want to sneeze while his body yelled at him to cry. Ranboo felt as though he was in the middle of those two extremes, sniffling quietly as he tried to wipe away the beginnings of a stuffy nose on his sleeve. </p><p> </p><p>He was unsuccessful, and his small wait in the living room of the two’s home was starting to draw attention he knew would be unwelcome at the time. Ranboo forced himself to loosen his grip on the cloth, letting it hang in his hands limply. It felt wrong to let it flop around carelessly, he found himself thinking, mind wandering ever-so-slightly. </p><p> </p><p>It was a representation of everything that Techno was to him, Ranboo thought. Warm and fiery and protective. Holding memories within the threads that had been woven so long ago and the scuffed little bits of fabric showing off stories that he knew he wasn’t familiar with. It was everything that Ranboo would have loved to keep to himself and treasure on his own. </p><p> </p><p>And yet… </p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s words filtered through his mind, polluting the thoughts he had. No, not polluting. Cleaning them up, ridding them of the little selfish things that clung to his consciousness. It brushed them away as though it were with a broom and made careful work to harness the little sense of goodness he had in him that had been buried by grief. </p><p> </p><p>His hands tightened on the cape and he made his way outside before he would lose his cool, looking to Tommy and holding it out to him wordlessly. The teen flinched back for a moment before looking at him, Ranboo forcing himself to speak what had been cycling in his head. </p><p> </p><p>“I want you to have this,” He said softly, not letting his will waver as he watched Tommy’s shaky hands hover off the rich red fabric. “I think it’d have a better home with you.” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy looked up to Ranboo, eyebrows furrowed as the teen looked skeptical. “Are you sure?” He asked, voice trembling the slightest bit. Instead of responding, Ranboo pushed the piece of fabric into his hands, ignoring the minute shake of his own limbs and tucking them into his pockets instead. </p><p> </p><p>“I think he’d want you to have it. Either that or yell at you for wearing it.” Tommy laughed a bit at the weak joke, a jolt of noise escaping him out of something close to anxiousness rather than finding humour in the sentence. Ranboo waved off the 'thank you' he got, and Tommy hugged the cape close to his chest as he buried his chin in the white fur of the ornate piece. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re free to come back any time at all, Ranboo,” Tubbo reminded him with a wry smile, reminded of the information Ranboo had blurted out in the living room the night before. The hybrid in question nodded, letting his eyes shut as he slept on his feet for a moment before opening them again, bleary as before. Ranboo nodded as a response to his statement, not bothering to give verbal confirmation of what he knew would end up being an empty promise. </p><p> </p><p>The last thing Ranboo wanted to do was stress the two of them out with emotions that they weren’t equipped to handle. It would have been horribly selfish of him, as well as something that would make him feel like a bother. Ranboo would much rather let himself curl up with the huskies than bother Tommy and Tubbo. At least he knew how to help huskies. He was completely out of his depth in the mainlands, not knowing how to ensure their happiness with how complex everything seemed to be getting. </p><p> </p><p>It made Ranbo feel useless. He didn’t want to be useless. </p><p> </p><p>As Ranboo left the area, walking further and further from the two, a small part of his mind screamed at him, asking him what he was thinking by giving Tommy something that belonged to him. He did his best to tune out that little voice in favour of remembering the look in the teen’s eyes when they had been watching the night sky and hoping that he would find comfort in something that would have only haunted Ranboo. </p><p> </p><p>He poisoned everything he touched. He didn’t want to ruin Techno, too, didn’t want to infect him with whatever evil thing made everyone around him cursed to die and suffer and hurt. Ranboo would’ve isolated himself for a million years if it meant he got just one more with Phil and Techno. He had even considered it before realizing that he wouldn’t live anywhere near that long. It was a silly thing to nearly cry over, but Ranboo couldn’t help it. </p><p> </p><p>The teen made his way home, feet sinking into the mud as tears crawled down his cheeks and he imagined himself with a pair of wings wrapped around his shoulders. All the warmth from the day before was seeping away, and despite knowing he had done the right thing, Ranboo felt so incredibly empty and vulnerable without Techno’s cape. </p><p> </p><p>The walk home was silent and long. Ranboo wished someone was there with him. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>watch as you begin to take a backseat to the world around you. don’t try and fight it. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It had been a long three weeks since he had confessed some of his darkest thoughts to the only pair he would never have told under any other circumstances. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo thought that if he were to tell anyone, it would be someone like Puffy or Niki. The two had proven that they didn’t mind him at his worst, though he always felt bad for bothering them when he could pull his own weight. He was hardly Atlas, collapsing under the weight of the world. No, instead he was just holding a little piece of a meadow on his shoulders, flowers rooting themselves into his sweater and skin and knotting around his heart and kept it beating. </p><p> </p><p>Every time he blinked, the illusion went away, though the feeling of his lungs squeezing around nothing was one that was always prominent. He felt a constant pressure on his chest that pressed down at him until he felt like he would choke under the weight of it completely. Rambo didn’t know whether he would welcome the feeling or not. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo, true to his word, had made it a habit to message him almost every day. It did a good job of distracting him when he was starting to spiral, especially on days that he spent in his fogged-up head more often than not. It was something that he found comforting, knowing that someone else existed as the teen’s rambles played out in his head and right in his ear, as though he was right next to him. Ranboo found himself becoming better friends with the teen in the process, eventually making enough progress with his dissociative state to force himself to talk after he had floated out of it. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo was great company when he had to do menial tasks that would end up with him reminiscing on something that he spent too much time examining. The home was always quiet and the tempting song of the cottage and the smoke plumes that would float up from its fireplace now and then was almost always enough for him to wander in and end up crying more in the process. </p><p> </p><p>With Tubbo on the line, however, it was harder than ever to get distracted. Ranboo had to use his mind to get himself what he needed as well as talking with Tubbo every time he was on the comm. It left little space for his thoughts to wander, as well as keeping him occupied physically. Ranboo knew that Tubbo could see a few of his basic status updates through the connection that the magical piece of equipment provided. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo wanted to hate it for how glaringly obvious it made his flaws, especially when the teen was sure he had done a pretty good job hiding it from the rest of the residents of the SMP. The teen had done his best to make sure his problems would stay his, and that he wouldn’t bother others with it at all. He had failed that three times now, once with Techno and Phil, once with Puffy and Niki, and once with Tommy and Tubbo. He was probably the biggest failure he knew at this point, self-hatred murking his thoughts up as he let the toxicity build up in his head needlessly. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t bring up these thoughts to Tubbo. He actively avoided any and all mentions of them, if he was being honest with himself. It was a good distraction to talk to Tubbo, but he didn’t let anything close to what had happened three weeks ago in their living room happen again. Ranboo felt like he was stepping into new skin every time he got on a call with the teen, happier than he sounded and brighter than he should have been able to keep up for hours. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo didn’t suspect much, he was pretty sure. Ranboo had always been a good actor. It had come hand and hand in the memory loss, though in an obscure way compared to most other interconnecting things in his life. He didn’t give it much thought, just thankful that Tubbo couldn’t catch his quirks when it came to lying yet. </p><p> </p><p>It felt manipulative, in a way. But he knew that it wasn’t. He just wanted privacy and didn’t want to make his friend sad. Simple motives that couldn’t be held upon the same level of Dream. The last thing he wanted to do was spiral back into the state he had been in a year ago. It was much, much worse than his dissociating now and how he was able to snap out of it easily. It was more panicked, blackouts and gaps of time that were unattainable by regular means. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo shuddered at the thoughts, sitting up in bed as he stared at the walls of his shack before swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He sat there, still. Ranboo’s eyes were locked on the ground in front of him as he massaged his left hand’s palm with his thumb. His emotions hadn’t been anything close to distinguishable that day. They were more of a cesspool of confusion that did nothing more than leave him achingly numb rather than settled. He knew it had been a quick assumption to hope that after confessing what had been bothering him that it would go away, but it had been worth a try. </p><p> </p><p>Now the only thing that had happened was Tommy and Tubbo knowing he tried to kill himself. Ranboo swallowed as his mouth felt drier than it ever did, saliva pooling ever-so-slightly under his tongue as he ran it over his fangs anxiously. The teen’s fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to let his claws tear into his skin in an attempt to escape the endless feeling of painful numbness that was slowly crawling its way up to his chest. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo didn’t know what would happen when it spread to his lungs, let alone if it settled when they reached it. Maybe the terrifying blank slate of emotions would engulf him completely until he was nothing but a husk of what he used to be. Ranboo knew that it wasn’t possible, logically, but he wasn’t in the space to think logically. </p><p> </p><p>He started picking at the skin of his forearm, the action trained into him as his right hand migrated from his left hand’s palm to the inside of his elbow. Ranboo’s breathing was shallow as his claws picked at the same line of skin until it finally tore open in a jagged cut that welled up in blood ever-so-slightly. </p><p> </p><p><em> Not enough, </em>something hissed in his mind, the very corner of it. It almost went unnoticed by the hybrid and would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been spending so much time in his head compared to the past year. Ranboo heeded the voice easily, digging his forefinger and middle finger into the wound that he had made, feeling the pain very absently, and very far away before he pulled his claws out of the bloody fixture on his arm. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at the hand through bleary eyes. Saw the blood dripping off of his pale hands and closed his eyes, wiping them off on the bedsheet. He couldn’t be bothered to try and fix what he had already done. Ranboo thought everything was worth much less effort than it had been given credit for. The thoughts of going out to fix his wounds or get wood or stone or ores or tend to his farm were useless ones. </p><p> </p><p>His arm slowly bled out as the teen wished he was anywhere else. Ranboo wished he had someone to talk to but he didn’t want to bother Tubbo with his inane thoughts. For a moment he got up, ready to leave and go to the cottage before remembering that Techno wasn’t there like he was most nights. Ranboo’s hands paused in their actions, his hands stilling as his mind mulled over the implications of his words. </p><p> </p><p>After another moment, he moved his hands up to his hair, ignoring the blood that had been splattered against his fingers from the wounds he had inflicted upon himself. Ranboo’s fingers were slick and they slipped around his hair in a way that made him a bit frustrated, but the trembling of his hands did little to interrupt his braiding. </p><p> </p><p>It was slow, familiar, something close to sleepy and comfortable as he did so. Ranboo moved to lean his back against the headboard of his bed. The wood pressed against his back comfortably as he ignored the slight sting in his back. Ranboo forced himself to focus on his hands, focus on coping mechanisms that wouldn’t hurt him. He pulled himself into something close to a sleep-like state as his fingers didn’t stop moving after one braid. </p><p> </p><p>He pressed the ends of his hair together with blood-stained fingers that shook, the ends matting together with the wetness of his blood sticking them together. Ranboo ignored that it would inevitably stain his white hair pink in some places if he didn’t wash it out soon. It was the least of his worries at the moment. Ranboo didn’t think he would have minded any physical changes, either, not with how he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror. </p><p> </p><p>More often than not, intrusive thoughts had sprouted into his mind with little to no break, making him want to tear his eyes out some days and cry on the others where he felt like it was the least he had deserved. Thoughts of being stabbed, a poison poured down his throat, acid in his eyes, claws in his chest. Everything he knew he deserved hurting him in the worst way for what he had done. </p><p> </p><p>It was hard to follow Tommy’s advice, despite how the teen had been so solid in it. Ranboo felt like crying, feeling like he had been betraying the teen by trying to make himself forget what Tommy had told him. </p><p> </p><p>It took him another moment to realize he was crying, tears streaming down his face in parallel patterns as Ranboo gasped for a desperate breath that he knew he couldn’t hold onto. He was selfish, so selfish and terrible and deserved nothing, deserved the worst because of what he had done and what he was and for aiding Dream in everything the year before that most people weren’t even aware of. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo laid back on his bed, letting the sun that stained his face get overshadowed by the roof of his shack. The windows were only half-open yet they brought more soul to the little house than Ranboo had expected, chilling his bones as a breeze blew in from an open window. </p><p> </p><p>The sun was dipping beneath the sky, and Ranboo let himself close sore, tired eyes as he heard the wind translate into clumsy Commonspeak. It sounded a bit awkward from the mouth of an air spirit but knowing that it wasn’t from them personally, not at all. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Have a few scars myself, I’ll admit,” </em>Came the haunting voice of Techno. It was distorted under layers of magic and air and something close to delusion built up in his mind as realized that the conversation had been made long ago. Back when he had first come to Techno with the problem. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t see the man in front of him, only hearing his voice as his mentor made him want to die more than he wanted him to be better. Ranboo shook his head, closing his eyes as exhaustion built up in his eyes and forced them closed. He could hear the reverb of the voice in his chest, echoing in his ears as clear as day. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Well, of course. Fighting really does take a toll on you, doesn’t it? </em>” The voice sounded akin to Ghostbur’s, though it wasn’t high-pitched like how he knew the other’s had been. Ranboo shook his head again, turning to press his face into his pillow as blood-stained fingers curled into the pillowcase. It was comforting and torturous at the same time and Ranboo didn’t know what to do. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> ... Your scars are from fighting. Just a different type of battle that I wish I could help with, </em>” Ranboo remembered his answer to the question. He wet his dry lips and spoke the croaking words he replied with at the time, a bit paraphrased. </p><p> </p><p>“You help a lot,” He whispered into the open air. “Just by being there, I think. You and Phil are like… Like the first family I had.” </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo’s voice cracked horribly at the last word, despite no tears coming to his eyes. His fingers were curled into the sheets and stained his white pillowcase redder than it needed to be. He sat up all of a sudden, ignoring the voice as he made his way outside, comm in one hand as he held out his other for balance.</p><p> </p><p>The teen didn’t bother trying to balance where he was, going as fast as he could to the cottage. He knew what he was going to do, knew that he needed to do something to keep Techno’s voice from haunting him painfully. He made his way through snow and up the steps of the porch, bursting into the home without letting himself pause to think. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo stopped in front of the mirror in the bathroom, hands staining the counter as he looked up at himself with panting breaths. He could hardly stare at himself in the mirror before he tore his gaze away. Everything about his reflection was wrong, wrong, wrong. His eyes were dull, his face misshapen, his hair different. Ranboo didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to act. His hands ran through his hair as he choked down a sob in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>The teen didn’t want to remember anything, didn’t want to remember the good times or the bad or the ugly and the character-building moments he knew Techno valued. Everything hurt and he didn’t want to deal with it, he didn’t want to deal with the burning in his chest. He didn’t want to bother anyone but he knew that was impossible and the only thing left to do was live in his own personal hell of conflicting thoughts or somehow try and move on. Moving on felt impossible, felt like a fever dream to him. It was something that was unattainable to him and something that was a child’s wish rather than an expectation. </p><p> </p><p>Grief was something that felt stupid, hurt and made him remember why he hated getting attached, why he was so happy to forget everything that happened. Ranboo didn’t want- He didn’t-</p><p> </p><p>The teen cut off the matted braids in his hair, crying silently as he pulled loose strands out of his hair with his hands and let the bloodied bits of his locks fall onto the bathroom counter. He continued, hands slowly growing less and less shaky as he cut more and more. Ranboo’s eyes shut as he continued to cut away at the jaw-length hair he had grown and maintained. </p><p> </p><p>His hands were still, his thoughts were quiet, his hands were still and he didn’t need to think at all as he felt hair fall off his skull and took the little pieces of Techno and Phil that he clung on to too much with him. Ranboo shook his head, scissors clattering to the counter and landing in the sink. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo stared at it. Stared at his bloodstained hands. Stared at the comm he left on the counter. Stared at himself in the mirror and found something close to the start of something new in the reflection. He had something to… He… </p><p> </p><p>He picked up his comm, sending a message to the only person he talked to anymore with more of a calmness to him than he ever had in the past two months. Ranboo typed it out, sending it a moment later. </p><p> </p><p><em> &lt; Ranboo whispered to Tubbo_ &gt; </em>can u please come to the tundra? i need help</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo stared at the words. I need help. I need help, I need help, I need help. </p><p> </p><p>He leaned his head back to the wall and let himself slide down the wall slowly, arms encircling his legs as he sank down. </p><p> </p><p>He took a slow breath once. Twice. And opened his eyes. He would be okay. He would be okay. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>become a secondary character in your own motion picture. </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <b>you don’t need other people to drive away your loneliness. you just needed to find a way to talk to it. </b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank u very much for making ur way thru this fic w me lol i appreciate it a lot. it might not have had the ending u were looking for but it is one that i hold close 2 my heart cuz it follows my own experience and i like to vent thru my works</p><p>thank u again to orpheusaki for beta reading this whole fic my beloved i appreciate it so much and she is wonderful and everyone should read all of her works </p><p>and thank u 2 alex tenprnt for helping me with plot stuff i couldnt figure out :] xe is awesome too i appreciate so much </p><p>thank u again for reading, tell me what u think!!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank u very much for reading and a veryyy special thank u to beta reader saki @orpheusaki for looking over this fic before i posted, as well as keeping me entertained thru the comments on the google doc LOL</p><p>this is pretty heavy compared to my other fics, as well as a lot longer, but i used it a lot as a vent since it correlates with some stuff that happened to me before haha, it was a couple years ago at least so im chilling. thank u for reading this, and i hope it helped u a little bit to read it as well, since it helped me to write it. </p><p>lemme know what u think! and comment if i missed any triggers, i dont want anyone to read this and get hurt</p><p>second part will eventually come with some comfort, fear not :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>